Crazy
by NonMetallicMetal
Summary: It's a lie that people in love do stupid things. People in love do crazy things. The only thing they are stupid for is for ever falling in love.
1. The Trigger

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia.

Thanks for opening the link. Let me introduce myself quickly, I'm NMM and I love Cowboy Bebop. That's all, unless you visit my homepage. But wait! First read the story. Enjoy! : )

_On with the story!_

**MMN CRAZY NMM**

There wasn't anything more Faye could do. What else could she have done? Maybe she should've thrown herself at his feet and held him down with whatever strength she had left. But maybe that wouldn't have been enough. Bullets hadn't. And maybe Faye couldn't do anything to begin with. Maybe it would never be her place to do that, for that he had Julia. It was Julia's job to keep him bound. She had to stand seeing him leave.

She struggled to get up and used the wall for support as her knees trembled with anxiety. She moved herself with her hands clutching to the cold metal just to give a step. Her vision was foggy and her head was swarming in pain. Somehow Faye made her way to the room where he had been sitting in while cleaning his gun. She took the same seat and crossed her arms on the table. Her head fell heavily into them and her eyes stung from lack of tears.

Faye felt her gun press against her abdomen and roughly took it out and slammed it on the table. She let her head fall again. She felt a piece of cloth under her cheek and she smelled the scent of gunpowder stuck to its surface. She opened her glazed eyes and saw his glass of liquor sitting besides her, unfinished. He must have been in a rush to die. His words echoed in her head…"I'm not going to die, I'm going to see if I ever was alive."… And she wished that he had never been alive. It would have avoided the knot stuck on her throat, her over-dry eyes, the pain within her that made her insides churn, and the acid taste in her mouth.

She dug her face deeper into the gunpowder scent of the cloth and she could swear she smelt him in there too. But maybe she'd gone crazy and her mind was hallucinating. Faye stared at the glass again and blinked once, twice as she saw a figure reflected on the surface. Her heart leaped and she turned her head quickly to find—nothing. She really was crazy.

Faye let her head fall on her arms again and her hair loosely draped around her neck and face. She stretched her arm and her fingertips thumped the barrel of her gun. She stared at her gun as the sound of the collision echoed in her head. The gun was dull and yet it was brighter than she'd ever expected to see it. She took it in her hands and felt the cold burn her hands as she caressed the barrel. Faye's eyes filled with daze as a slight smile formed on her lips, and she knew exactly why Spike had been able to smile everyday knowing that one day he would end everything.

She opened her mouth and smoothly placed the barrel of the gun in it. Her tongue tasted the bitter gunpowder and her lips froze with the chill of the metal. She held the trigger but as she began to tense her fingers around it her hands shook violently as her lips trembled and dry tears spread from her eyes. Why couldn't she do it! Spike had walked to his death. She could do it. But no. He'd been more of a coward than she. At least she was trying to pull her own trigger. She would willingly stain her hands with her own blood. He couldn't do that. He wasn't 'living,' but was so afraid of death that he'd have someone else pull the trigger for him. That's the way he was, he was full of truth and deceit. And to him life was a quick dream. And Faye couldn't disagree with him more.

Angered, Faye set the gun on the table again. She heaved and dried her tears roughly as her body slouched over the table. She rested her elbows, with the gun in between them, and held her head there. Her mouth was bitter. She cleared her throat and licked her lips tasting guilt and anxiousness and gunpowder. Faye felt disgusting. Her fingers twitched and pulled her hair tight. She needed. Something. Someone. To live. But couldn't. She opened her eyes and saw the gun glistening dimly.

She sighed. The bitter taste would not leave her mouth. She took the glass of liquor and let her lips gently touch the rim. Then she drank slowly, enjoying the ecstasy that came as each drop thundered into her. She didn't breathe; air would contaminate the substance. Faye finally separated the glass from her lips and smiled again. Maybe she needed more of that. She saw a drop of alcohol roll down the side of the glass and before it fell, caught it with the tip of her tongue.

Faye set the glass down and rested her head against her hands again. She closed her eyes hoping that the stinging would stop, but as she opened them the gun was still there, tempting. She took it again and played with it. She cleaned it with the cloth that smelled like gunpowder and Spike. She ran her fingers across the trigger and jokingly placed it on her temple. She pretended to press the trigger and she looped her head down as she said "bang."

She continued to do so for a minute. But after a few times, she placed it against her temple. It stung. Suddenly, it brought everything back. Her eyes filled and poured down her cheeks again. Faye knew there would not be enough alcohol in the world to keep her in an unconscientious stupor. She held the gun firmly against her skin. Her whole body itched and shook again. She was afraid. She heard music from her past. She was nervous. She couldn't understand what she was doing. Maybe she was really crazy. And even as she tried to pull the gun away from her temple, her hand trembled and her fingers continued to tense around the trigger.

**MMN To Be Continued NMM**

Hello there! If you have got this far, I hope that you enjoyed it. I don't have much to say except the usual, like I fell in love with Cowboy Bebop.

_**And, please, review**_. I'm writing in Fan Fiction so that I know what my writing needs to improve on. So, if you tell me what I'm doing wrong, that would be great.

Oh, yeah, I didn't have time to proofread, and you'll find that I never really do. Expect typos once in a while and maybe some grammar and spelling errors.

As for my writing style characteristics, ignore the sentences not being complete all the time, or single word sentences. I mean to do that quite often. And, long run-ons sometimes. I guess it all depends on what I'm trying to achieve. And no, you can't say that is wrong because if Faulkner can write three or more pages without a single punctuation, so can I. (P.S. Faulkner wrote the Sound and the Fury, a book I read in AP English class. He is one of the masters of writing.)

_**Thanks for reading! See you soon Cowboys and Cowgirls!**_


	2. Lies of Death

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia.

Hello again! I hope you're having a nice day. And well, thank you for opening the link.

That's about all…

_On with the story!_

**MMN CRAZY NMM**

He walked down the steps feeling his legs become a weak kind of iron, stiff, and yet, they couldn't hold him up. It was interesting to know that only after feeling like a hollow statue he'd realized how much people lied.

Because they did.

They lied.

All of them.

Because as he died; he didn't see his whole life flash by. That was a lie. That happened before, when he still felt the pulse of his blood surge through him as he pointed in the air and said 'bang.' When he could still convince himself to clutch some meaningless image. When he began to fear whatever it was that came after death.

That's how he knew that when he heard Julia's voice, the echo of the word 'dream' manifest in his mind; she was lying.

Life wasn't a dream because you're never afraid to wake up from a dream, specially a nightmare.

And he feared losing his dream now; he feared what would come after; and what wouldn't. That's why he'd known she'd lied too.

And maybe she'd lied in other cases.

He saw her knowing he'd die, yet very much alive.

Because what he saw as he died, right before his body turned numb.

It wasn't his past.

It wasn't his present.

It was the foggy pain of not knowing the future.

And as he collapsed, he saw Jet.

He saw, lord knows why, Ed and Ein.

And Faye.

And that was the worst death he could think of.

Hearing that, voice breaking.

The, bullets. Miss.

Her. Eyes.

And. Heart.

Break.

And. For.

The. First.

Time.

Seeing

The Future

He Now

wished

he d

taken

**MMN To Be Continued NMM**

Aww, such a short and sad chapter. Well, as you can see, I played a lot with structure. (It was kind of fun, I like to joke by saying my sentences died.) Thanks to _iluvjellybeans _for reviewing, hopefully you'll enjoy this one because it is fully dedicated to you since you're the only person who has reviewed so far. That's a remainder to the rest of the readers to _**please**_ _**review**_, every time you review you make me very, very happy: )

Thanks for reading! See you soon Cowboys and Cowgirls!


	3. Heart Ache

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop. The song I used was, I believe, "Heartache" by Patsy Cline, but for sure, she sings it.

Okay, so far I know that there are at least two or three of you that are interested in the story, so here goes to you! Now that I know that there is at least one person interested, I'm ready to write. And quite truthfully, I've been wanting to write this for a long time and so, have no fear, the author is here…he,he,he. Okay, I just really wanted to say that.

:)

Just to warn you, there will be some songs knitted into the text, but not overwhelmingly so. Did you read the disclaimer? If so, I recommend you listen to it sometime. Check out my profile for the link, or at least I'll try to add it in there.

All right, _on with the story!_

**MMN CRAZY NMM**

"Faye put that down!" Her eyes shot open and the gun remained pressed hard against her temple. "Don't be stupid. We've had plenty of that." She stopped trembling realizing what she'd been doing. "Are you as dim-witted as he?" Jet said very angered.

"But—" she stuttered and her voice failed her. Nothing made sense and her fingers around the gun loosened as she tossed it across the room. It slid, the sound of cold metal against cold metal carried across the room, and the gun miraculously did not fire. It clanked against the wall when it reached it and didn't make another sound.

Jet said nothing more and walked away grumbling about stupidity.

Faye remained seated with her hands over her face, her palms feeling the warmth of her wet cheeks. She would not cry anymore. She would not try and kill herself anymore. She would not act so stupidly anymore. She. She. Was. Confused. She would not try to convince herself anymore. Convince herself of anything. Of him.

**II-II II-II II-II**

The streets were empty and it was dark. The sound of Faye's heels echoed in the streets, her steps making a sort of sad music. She stopped. She turned to face the door of a bar hearing the sweet blues pouring out the door. This was the kind of place she needed. She opened the door and walked in.

As always, there were those glances shot at her from a handful of men. And like always, she ignored all of them. She walked to an empty table adjacent to the stage, wanting to drown out every one of her thoughts away.

A waiter came and she ordered some liquor and let her head swing to the melody of the music. This was exactly what she needed. She began humming the song feeling that the music was crying for her and no one else.

The waiter came back and set the glass on the table. She smiled seeing drops of water slide down the surface and the ice reflect and distort the blue lights from the stage. She took a drink and smiled seductively to the waiter. He was attractive. He swallowed hard and jumped when someone called his name. He smiled at her and left quickly. She leaned back smiling mischievously; she still had it. Then, she turned her attention to the stage.

The blues singer was a handsome man; tall and dark and mysterious. But his voice was even more beautiful, raspy and deep. His voice was not superficial. It was his. Full of feelings. Full of reality. And she loved it all; the happiness and the sadness, the delight and the pain. It was all part of her reality.

She spent hours sitting there, listening to the bittersweet music, feeling the smoke from the stage and from her own cigarette infiltrate her lungs, the alcohol's harsh taste appease her mouth, hearing her humming become words. And now she was singing. And she couldn't help it.

The band was playing for her and only her. She sat with her legs crossed, cigarette and glass in the same hand, leaning back on her chair. Singing. She knew that she was tone deaf. But did that mean that she couldn't sing. Wasn't singing just an expression? Right now she couldn't care less and she let her voice flow from her throat.

"_Heartache_, _Heartache_." She began.

"_Heartache_.

_What does it matter how my heart aches_?

_I should be happy with someone new_.

_But my heartaches_,

_My heartaches for you_."

She closed her eyes taking the last drink from her glass. She set it on the table along with enough money to pay for all the drinks she'd had and walked out the bar with her cigarette in hand. It had been loud in the bar and she hadn't been able to let her herself think. But now that she came out into the cold street's she could hear her heels resounding against the sidewalk, her uneven steps echo in the streets, and her constant humming. She pulled her sweater closer to her and continued walking in the cold streets.

Suddenly, she heard someone running behind her. She stood still. The steps were heavy and clear. Who could it be, who would choose to follow her? She turned a corner and the running continued to follow her. The steps became louder and louder and louder. She leaned hard against the wall of the corner she'd just turned and pulled out her gun. Finally, when the person was so near she swore she could hear him breathing; she turned the corner and pressed the end of her gun to whoever it was.

"Please, don't shoot!" the man said desperately. He had big curly hair and green eyes. This was not Spike. And she didn't quite understand why it was that anytime she'd be chased by someone else she'd think it was Spike. Spike was dead. And it was more likely for some sore bounty to try and get her back. But he wasn't a bounty either. There was no reason for a gun, so she put it up--for the moment.

"What do you want," she said apathetically.

"I heard you singing. You sing very well." The man wiped his brow with a handkerchief he'd taken out of his pocket. He was shorter than Spike and wasn't as thin.

"I've been told otherwise."

"No, no. Don't do this to me; I'm just trying to make conversation."

"I know. And I'm trying to end it." She turned again and began to walk away.

"Listen, just hear me for a few minutes!" He reached out to grab her arm but she gazed at him angrily. "Okay, I understand. No touching."

"Five minutes." She might as well figure why this guy was after her.

"Good. Okay, I'm Stephen Williams and I work for a casino in Mars. They're going to kill me if I don't find someone to replace one of our main entertainments, she was a really beautiful beach-blonde girl, but compared to you, if you don't mind me saying so, she's nothing. And to add more to the package you sing extremely well, albeit others may tell you otherwise, and I should know, I play the piano, studied harmony--"

"To the point."

"Okay, listen, you sing very well, it's not just tonality, it's soul. And you have it. Listen, we'll pay you extremely well, this is an emergency. Would you consider the job?"

"No," she said throwing the rest of her cigarette in the ground and stepping on it. She walked away. But the man continued to chase after her.

"I'm begging you!" he pleaded. "We'll pay twice what you make in a week."

"I'm a bounty hunter, it depends if the week is good or bad."

"Choose your best week I don't care! Tell me how much it is and I'll double, no. Triple the amount."

Faye smiled. She whispered the best she'd ever gotten, an extremely excellent week. The man suddenly stopped and fell to the ground. Faye shot an eyebrow up and cursed under her breath. She nudged him with her foot. "Wake up." She got down on one of her knees and pulled the fainted man up by his collar. "Wake up." He didn't do anything. She got agitated and struck his face. The man sat down abruptly. "I guess there's no deal, is there?" she said peevishly.

The man sat down with his legs crossed. "No. I can't triple or double that." Faye looked down at his desperate and distorted face. He'd really taken a shock. But she needed money. She hadn't had such a nice week in years.

"Tell you what. To begin with, just pay me that exact amount."

"To the cent?"

"To the cent."

He stood with his face dug in his hands for a few minutes. Fayed stuck around just to make sure she wasn't missing out on any deal. "I can't give you that much. But. The casino has apartment complexes where they keep their top employees. How about if you go live there and we'll pay half of what you ask. It's an extremely nice place, it's Mars after all. Free television, electricity, water, food, even wine."

She thought about it for a while. After she'd left Jet she'd had a hard time finding a place to stay and something to eat.

"Okay," she said and continued to walk away.

"Wait—Where are you going?!"

"It's not the first time I've been to Mars. Aren't you eager to show me this place I'll be working at?"

"Yeah, I mean, yes definitely."

"Then let's get going. It's about to rain." The man stumbled up from the floor, his face completely unbelieving. But right now, Faye couldn't think of much, just some sleep. She was sure she'd wake up with a hangover and she did have a weak spot for money. She'd been having a hard time with bounty hunting anyway. There was no Ed, no Jet, no Spike. No team. She gave a grim smile and whispered, "Easy comes, easy goes."

**MMN To Be Continued NMM**

Yay! Another update. So? Did you like it? Well, if you did or didn't, **please review** telling me what I'm doing good or bad.

**Dedications: **Well, thanks to _iluvjellybeans_ and _hieiluva _for reviewing. This one is split fifty-fifty for each of you. Again, thanks for reviewing.

Well, let's see I don't have anything else to say that I can think of so…

**Thanks for reading! See you soon Cowboys and Cowgirls!**


	4. Escape

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Cowboy Bebop is directed by Shinichiro Watanabe, composed by Keiko Nobumoto, planned by Sunrise, and the original concept is by Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff). Wow. Didn't know that did you?

Hi! Hi! How are you all doing? Good? Well, if you are or if you aren't, I hope this update makes you a bit happier. Let's see, oh, yeah, I wasn't able to find a link to the song on the last chapter, I'm sorry about that. However, if you visit youtube dot com, you may be able to find some songs by Patsy Cline. And as always, sorry for typos and spelling and grammar errors.

That's about it, _on with the story!_

**MMN CRAZY NMM**

His body was cold, to a point frozen. He laid on a metal table with his eyes closed and several strings connected to his forehead, face, neck, chest, and arms. The web of different colors entangled itself and hooked up to a cold machine that in turn plugged into a large computer. The room was filled with a constant high-pitched beep every few seconds and the loud whispers of a doctor and a nurse.

The doctor walked to Spike's body and smiled down on him. Her hair flung down over her shoulders and she moved it out of her way as she examined his body. She called to the nurse and he walked over to the computer reading off the information from the screen. The doctor ran her hand over Spike's face saying what a shame it was. The nurse took her hand away from Spike.

"You're not cheating on me with an unconscious man, are you?" he said.

"No. But it is a shame you can't be as handsome as he," she responded.

"Oh, now you're hurting my feelings."

"I'm sorry. You know I was just kidding. How about I take you out to lunch to make up for it? Let's get out of these coats and head out," she said tentatively.

"I think you are already forgiven. Just give me a few minutes; I need to add security and log off of this guy's files."

"Just leave them," she said holding his hand. "We'll have to come back after lunch. The ice might be gone, but his body is still frozen. There are guards in every door too. There won't be any danger."

"Well, you're right…I suppose."

"Let's go then, that lobster isn't ordering itself."

They rolled a divider and walked put into the office part of the room. They threw their coats on a rack in a closet and headed out of the room. The nurse threw his arms over the doctor's shoulders. She flung it off and demanded that he never do that in the hospital. People were already suspicious and they may get in trouble. He held one of his hands close to him and rubbed it saying how badly it stung since she'd made him hit the thermostat. She shut the door to the hallway and kissed him saying sorry. Then, she opened it again and both of them headed out of the room.

The door closed silently behind them and clicked shut in place. An antique clock sat on the doctor's desk ticking away every second. Soon those seconds became minutes; and those minutes, hours; and they did not return. The beeping of the machine continued its steady pace, until soon; it was in time with the clock. From one small window in the room, the dark evening poured in through the open shutters.

The room was only on the second floor and all the sounds of the street were clear. Laugher. It was the shoes tapping against the concrete sidewalk. Chances. It was the cars passing by. Screaming. It was the people talking. Pleading. The world was so alive. Crying. It.was...the past.present—future.

not

Taken

Nightmare.

A dream.

Just a dream. Never.

Afraid to—wake up.

"NO!" the speech rolled slurred from Spike's mouth. His eyes shot open. The rest of his body was immobile. His breathing became heavy. He coughed. His breathing suddenly quit. The beeping in the room grew frantically. His eyes widened. He coughed again, a phlegm building in his throat. He coughed. His body lurched forward trying to clean itself and he sat up abruptly, the phlegm escaping his mouth. But the web held him back and his body fell onto the warm surface of the table. His chest caved in and out as he breathed through his mouth. He laid there doing nothing.

His head hurt. He tried lifting his arms, but he felt weak and it took him minutes just to place his fingers against his temples. "What the hell?" he whispered, his speech still weak and badly articulated. There was a shot of pain that caused him to close his eyes. He tried to stand up, get up from the table. But he couldn't. He rested again and began stretching his muscles by flexing his fingers and toes. When he finally got his extremities to move, he began bending his knees and elbows, until eventually he could move his entire body. He decided to try getting up. Spike pulled at the chords glued against his skin carelessly and threw them aside. He flung his legs over the table and jumped off, his feet landed awkwardly and he hit the ground landing on his shoulder and chin. He gave a small grunt of exasperation and sighed.

He remained on the ground. Maybe he needed to stretch more. He looked at himself again, and for the first time realized that the only thing covering him was a towel around his waist. What was going on? He tried to remember. He checked things off: Ed left the Bebop and Ein had gone along with her, she was an eccentric little girl. Jet was cleaning windows and caring for his trees. Spike was cleaning his gun and Faye came along trying to trade information for money. He had mushrooms for dinner and Julia had died. Faye was crying, right in front of him, her body shook as he held her. Faye had very bad aim; she'd tried shooting him and failed. He'd killed vicious and the Syndicate was done with. He'd walked down the steps, lifted his fingers to the air, fell to the ground, heard Julia's voice, saw the Bebop, then nothing. And there was more. What had it been? He knew there was more. Had to be more. Something. He knew something was missing. What had been his very last thoughts? What!

Spike hated it. All of it. Why wasn't he dead? He was supposed to be dead! There was nothing else for him. Nothing. No—but maybe he was lying to himself. If he could only, remember. Damn it! He wanted to know. Why the hell was he still alive!

He was very frustrated and slowly rose to his feet. He walked unevenly until he reached the computer and he pulled a chair nearer and sat down. He looked at the screen. When had they updated? There were so many files and links and menus dancing happily on the screen. "I can manage this," he said to himself. Spike ran the cursor over several folders until he finally found the Records then Patients. He searched for himself and got the file rather quickly. He read the screen. Name: Spike Spiegel, he knew that, but was there any information that was useful to him. He read his age, his birthday, his weight and height, his sex. He smirked as he read through his facial description: very handsome. Miscellaneous information: chronic smoker and drinker, bounty hunter, body identified by: N/A.

He re-read everything, why had no one identified him? He scrolled down and at the very bottom was more useless information: Found with multiple fractures and profound bleeding; received in hospital only three minutes after heart stopped. He looked at the window and wondered what time it was. He gazed down at the start up bar: 9:46 PM, he ran the cursor over the time to check the day's date—dammit. It'd been five years. What had they done? He quickly opened the second part of his file: Treatment: Cryogenics. Description: Subject will be used in testing the notorious cryogenics treatment. His eyes took in all the text. This was too much. He printed the files. He just couldn't take it all in. Not now.

He needed to get out. He. Just. Had. To…Escape.

He looked around the room. It looked very much like a lab and on the other side of the half opened divider, he saw a desk. He walked closer to the office part of the large room, and the first thing he saw was the doctor's and the nurse's coats, but that wasn't enough. He looked through every drawer of the desk and found...money? What currency was this? He looked at it again: Mars. He was growing exasperated and continued his search. The room was full of closets. He opened several and found a lot of different operating materials, many machines and a lot of equipment. Luckily, in one closet were several of the nurses work clothes, thank god he'd been a tallish man; and clean enough to change his clothes whenever they would get splashed in blood or what not. He clumsily changed into the white socks; loose, blue pants and shirt, blue nurses cap, white cushioned shoes, and to top it all of, he threw on the coat. The guy's tag was still there and so was the doctor's, who by the way was quite attractive. Spike needed to get out of the hospital quietly. He walked over to his printing papers and found one with his picture. He tore it carefully with his hands just to the size he needed. He walked back to the doctor's desk, the infernal ticking of the clock bothering him. Spike found a clear fingernail polish and a bag of makeup. He was glad that he'd been attended by someone so pretty, but wondered otherwise about her work ethics. If anything, she'd been enough of help to help him escape, whether she knew it or not. He gazed at the clock and acted quickly as he carefully painted some of the clear liquid over the nurse's picture, sat his picture above, and added three more coats of the varnish.

It was almost ten. He quickly made his way to the printer picked up the papers and stuffed them in a vanilla folder. All he had to do was wait for the change of guard. He had his ear pressed against the door. His heart was beating fast and the blood rushed through his temples. The clock continued with the echoing ticking. He didn't know what to do. He just needed to leave the room. Just leave.

"Hey Jim. You ready for change of guard," said a deep voice.

"You kidding right?" came the reply. "I'm ready to get the hell outa here. Steve didn't show up for the afternoon shift and I've been stuck here since six."

"Alright. Then take your backside out of here already."

"I will. I'm about ready for some food and sleep…Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you then, have a goodnight."

"Thanks."

Spike heard the tapping of the guard shoes and then there was silence. Spike stood up straight and stretched his shoulders. He opened the door and headed out. The guard saw as he walked out and stared at him for a very long time.

"Hey," Spike said a bit awkwardly.

"Do I know you? I don't think I've seen you here before..."

"Yeah, I just. Started today." Spike looked around a bit for the exit.

"I see." He looked down at the hospital badge. "I don't think…Usually no one is here after seven."

"I know. The doctor left a bit early. So, she asked me to stay behind and finish up the work." He gave the guard a smile.

"Oh, I see," said the man with a dubious face still on.

"Well, if you don't mind, I have to get to bed and rest some." The guard looked unconvinced at Spike. "The doctor, she may be pretty, but she sure works the hell out of me."

"Go on," said the guard finally.

Spiked turned on his heel and continued to the elevator. He was sure glad it was just a few feet away. He stepped in and pressed the button for the first floor. There was music playing, a very delightful jazz. He closed his eyes and smiled. He was at last getting out of the hospital. When the elevator stopped, he regretted the idea of leaving the pleasant atmosphere, but his desire to escape was much stronger. He walked out of the elevator pretending to read through his records. He carefully searched for the exits and made his way to the hospital entrance. He walked out to the street.

He shifted his gaze from left to right, but decided to take the street right in front of him. Spike walked the street before taking off the nurse's cap and stuffing it in the coat. It was slightly cold. He dug inside his pockets but remembered he wasn't wearing his clothing. He sighed as the present slowly began to sink in. He was entirely confused. What was he supposed to do? He was supposed to be dead. He wasn't supposed to worry anymore. He felt like he didn't know anything.

He looked up at the sky and saw no stars. He examined his surroundings and grinned spotting a bar. Well, at least he knew something for sure. Now that he'd escaped, all he needed and wanted was a good glass of whiskey and a cigarette.

**MMN To Be Continued NMM**

Dear reviewer, you said longer, well how is that? Twice as long? Yep, yep. The story itself, no notes, is about 2,000 words. Did I do well?

Well, _**thanks**_ to my reviewers: _**hieiluva**_**, **_**iluvjellybeans**_**, and **_**justaweirdgurl**_. Thanks for your support; I really think we're…bonding. XD

**Edit: **Thanks to _iluvjellybeans_ for pointing out some confusion about the room and its 'props.' I only added a few sentences here and there; I hope that makes it clearer to understand.

_**Read this:**_

_**This is an actual interview. I didn't make it up.**_

_Question: Have you received any negative feedback for Spike's death?_

Watanabe: I've never officially said that he's died. At this point, I can tell you that I'm not sure if he's alive or dead. I think probably rather than being yelled at for killing Spike, I think ... people are more upset that I might make a continuation. ­­­

Personally, I think that they want to bring Cowboy Bebop back but are afraid it won't sell as much and they'll end up with a negative result instead of a positive one. I used to believe that Spike was dead. But after I read that, I pretty much figured that he's alive somewhere waiting for his story to be continued. And well, quite honestly, I don't think that someone can 'kill' their creation, especially if it is left, even if little, in doubt. Because that's the problem with us imaginative people, we fall in love with our characters and are constantly thinking about them, one way or another. (Yeah, I make things up too. I'm writing a book right now, as nerdy as that may sound, and I'm enjoying every minute of it.) So, I don't care what others may argue. I'm sure Spike is alive.

One more thing before I leave you, I updated so quickly because I have to continue on a Final Fantasy 7 fic that is still ongoing. So, I'll be writing FF7 for the next days. After that, you'll have to give me a break because I have to write a term paper for a college credit class, as well as a test for the same class, then I have an AP English class test, (I think it's funny because English is my second language), one-act play, literary criticism, and I have to write an essay for one of my college applications. I'll try to work hard so I can get back on the ship!

_**Please Review. I like reviews, they make me happy.**_

_**Take care! And**_ _**Thanks for reading! See you soon Cowboys and Cowgirls!**_


	5. The Only Difference

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. But, for sure you've heard the name Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff). Well, you have if you read the disclaimer in the last chapter. Also, the first song appearing is by Freddy Fenders and the second song by Patsy Cline.

Hey there! I'm back. Yep, I had a weekend full of non-stop writing, except for a manga break I took once or twice, wouldn't have made it without some manga. I posted a one shot and the second chapter for my Final Fantasy 7 fic, wrote an essay for Texas Tech, and a term paper for History 1301. Wow, even saying it get me tired. But! I really wanted to write this next chapter so I won't give myself much of a break. I know how much you appreciate my writing, right. Right? No, just kidding. But I do really appreciate all the reviews you give me. Oh, and before I forget, I apologize for spelling and grammar errors as well as typos.

That's about it, _on with the story!_

**MMN CRAZY NMM**

Her head didn't hurt as much as she had expected. Maybe she hadn't been as drunk as she'd though. Or maybe she was just getting used to it. She shook the blankets off of herself and rose slowly. She looked around her new, luxurious room. Even if they'd just let her live there, she would work for them. The bed was comfortable. It was covered with white sheets and a comforter and white pillows, lots of them too. She stretched herself and walked out into the living room. That guy, something Williams, was still there, sleeping on the couch. But she couldn't complain, that was not her couch yet. First, she had to be approved by the head of the casino and they would have to visit him today.

"Wake up," she said to the guy as she walked to the couch. He didn't stir. "I said, wake up," she said a little louder. The guy slowly rose and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh, sorry. I was tired."

"I could tell…So tell me, when are we going to see your boss?"

"Oh, that. I thought it would be a good idea if we got you something a little more decent to present yourself with." Faye's right eyebrow rose a little. "I mean, I don't have anything wrong with your clothes, but I just thought that something else would be a bit more presentable, and would give a better impression to the boss."

"Fine," Faye said. She really didn't care. Besides, was there ever a specific reason why she dressed like that? She just dressed to please herself; she didn't have to give a care what others thought of her. But if she wanted this job, and more importantly the money, it wouldn't hurt her to change her outfit just a little. "I'm not paying."

"I didn't expect you to," Stephen answered a bit bitterly. "Do you have some aspirin?"

"No."

The guy made a small frown. "I thought so…Well, I called last night, a hell of a ruckus they made about it too, and told them I'd take you to the office this afternoon around two. So, we need to go get you some new clothes."

"Right now?"

"Well, yes. I mean, when else are you going to have time. The appointment is today."

And so they left. But before they went shopping, they headed to a restaurant for breakfast. Faye didn't have much of an appetite, odd as it was; just a bit of juice was all she really needed. Of course, her appetite had failed her for about five years now. When they were finished they headed down to the best and most expensive shopping centers of Mars. Faye was beginning to like this guy, but figured that he was only doing it to save his own skin.

It was about eleven and Faye had only a few pieces of clothing. This guy wasn't as great as she had thought. He was very picky with what she chose. She understood he was the one paying for it, but for Pete's sake, did he have to tell her exactly what she needed to buy? In the end, she'd bought only two skirts, a coat, three blouses, and a pair of stilettos. Not a good day of shopping for Faye. She was beginning to get tired of him, then she spotted her heaven; there it was covered in pink and lace, a lingerie shop.

"Hold on," she said catching him off-guard. "I'm going in here. This time you'll have to wait outside."

"Sure," he said not at all exasperated. "Just don't take too long. Oh, and take this bags, go ahead and get dressed. We'll have to go get lunch, and after that head down to the office."

"Okay," Faye said walking in. The guy plopped down on a seat besides a fountain. There was an older man sitting besides him reading the newspapers. Stephen smiled at the man and pointed at the front page. The elder scratched his head a little and before Faye had entered the shop, the men were quickly submerged on the topic of sports. Faye looked out of the window and smirked.

"May I help you?" said a redheaded woman with false eyelashes and red lipstick. Faye hadn't walked in there for any particular reason other than try and get a little time to herself. But this was too good. Stephen would pay for not buying her those plum colored shoes.

"Yes. I'm looking for something like that." She pointed at a rack with very expensive-looking undergarments, made of a silky looking material and decorated with lace. Faye never really wore anything like that, but if it was that fine, she wouldn't mind wearing it.

"Oh, so you like quality."

"And quantity too."

In less than 45 minutes, Faye had chosen enough lingerie sets for the week, plus black, white, nude, and one strapless. It turned out that the amount due was twice what she'd spent already. She walked out of the store to get Stephen to pay. He handed her the card and sat down again to speak with the older man. He hadn't even asked her how much it had been. But Faye really didn't mind. She had the cashier carry out the transaction and picked up her bags.

"Do you mind if I change in your dressing rooms?"

"Go ahead." The cashier responded. They didn't appear too busy anyway.

She took her time to get ready. But even after she was finished, she didn't quite feel comfortable in the knee-length, black skirt. She tugged a bit at her deep-purple blouse and pulled the sleeves of her black dress jacket. She put on her red soled, black stiletto heels, fixed her makeup and hair, and walked out.

"Here is your card," she said handing it to Stephen.

"See!" he said enthusiastically. "You look so beautiful! Didn't I tell you you'd look great with that on?" He smiled widely at her.

"Thanks," Faye said trying to return the grin. She'd been caught off-guard. No one had really referred to her like that in the longest time. Sure, they praised her, but it wasn't the genuine style this guy had. "Then, I'm sure to get the job now."

"I sure hope so," Stephen said taking the bags from her. "My boss, Mr. Luther, is kind of picky though, he really does take music seriously. But, I'm sure you'll do just fine."

Before Faye knew it, she was sitting down on a white leather chair waiting for 1:58 to turn to 2:00. This man was strict. When he said two, he meant two. Faye didn't remember ever being particularly nervous, not anything like this in any case. But today, she felt vulnerable. She felt like she couldn't really hear anything other than 'tone-deaf" ringing in her ears. She didn't say anything. She kept her hands folded over her lap, staring out of the window, seeing the ships fly by.

"Stephen, you can go in now," said the receptionist.

"Well, thank you. Faye. Faye." She turned to face him. "It's our turn."

They entered the office. It was large and had the most sophisticated appearance. Faye's heel made an echo against the dark, wooden floor as she made her way closer to the desk. The chair was turned, and she couldn't see who was sitting on it. Suddenly, she felt relaxed. Damn it, if they didn't give her the job, what was the problem? She'd just go back to bounty hunting.

The chair began to turn slowly. "Take a seat," said a deep voice. She sat down leisurely and crossed her legs. "I hear that you can sing."

"So can about half of the world," Faye answered. Besides her, Stephen looked back and forth between Faye and the slowly turning chair. But the chair continued to spin slowly, and only a small chuckle was heard from behind it. No one spoke, but they waited for the chair to finally be turned facing them. A black man was sitting on the chair with his eyes closed and his right hand in his pocket. He wore a black, pinstripe suit and had his hat tilted to the left. He wore a grin, and Faye smiled a little. He slowly opened his eyes and at that instant, one of his eyebrows rose a little.

"Oh," he said to Stephen. "You actually found someone pretty." Then he turned to Faye. "You should have seen the last three girls he brought; they all looked like the girl who used to work for us, except more plain. But you. There's something different about you. Tell me, have you ever worked in anything like this before."

"No," Faye responded.

The man looked a bit concerned. He picked up his phone, "Emily, have Charles come to my office…No….I need him now…Tell him I'll fire him if he doesn't get here quickly. I can always hire another pianist."

"Sir," Stephen said. "She sings very well—"

"I'll be the judge of that, Williams. I told you that I don't care if the women sing like angels. I want music that is music in itself. I don't want to hear lyrics. I want to hear hearts crying or laughing."

"Bu—but. I know sir."

"Just wait Williams. We'll see how it goes. And you miss, do you mind looking through these." He opened one of his desk's drawers and pulled out a large book with his left hand. "They're lyrics, some I'm partial to. I'm going to ask that you sing some for me as soon as this damn boy gets here."

"Sure." She took the heavy book from his hand and read through the titles. She stopped when one caught her attention and read through the lyrics. However, Charles arrived in only a few minutes and Faye wasn't able to look through the entire set. The black man opened a door that led them to another room. It was full of saxophones, guitars, and drums. But in the middle, the center of it all, was a majestic cherry wood and golden trimmed piano.

"Don't think I'll let you use this too often," he told Charles. Faye kept looking through the lyrics. She really couldn't find any she liked, but she still wasn't even halfway through the book. "Miss. Are you ready?"

"Sure," Faye responded. The man looked at the page she was on.

"That's a good song," he walked over to the piano and found the music sheet. "Charles take a seat and enjoy my beauty." He tapped the keys with his right hand and Faye could see two of his fingers missing. However, he did not seem to notice.

"Yes sir." Charles took a seat nervously. He ran his brown eyes over the sheet and scratched his curly, blond hair. "Okay, I'm ready." He began to play and nodded at Faye when it was her turn to enter.

"_You must be a walking,_

_Piece of heaven,"_ she sang.

"_Or is it love,_

_That makes me feel this way_—"

"—Stop! That's enough. I can tell already. She doesn't really sing. I'm sorry, I really thought that you could sing. The way you walk and the way your eyes looked, I really thought you could!"

"How the hell do you expect me to sing something like this!" Faye retorted. "People don't want to hear this kind of things when they go to casinos. Most go to feel like they're not the only one's who are broken hearted."

"Than what do you want to sing?" the man said seriously.

She took the book up again and went to the very back, searching as fast as she could. Suddenly, a line caught her attention and she handed the book to Charles. The man looked at her with worried eyes and whispered. "I've never played this song."

"What!" said the boss. "I hired a mediocre pianist! Move aside boy, let me show you how to play the piano." Faye looked incredulously at the man, his hands weren't complete, how could he play correctly. But she was proven wrong. The man played smoothly and accurately. She was so absorbed that she forgot to sing. The man looked at her. "Well, are you going to sing or not?" Faye nodded. The man began to play again, but this time, she had her eyes closed and she became part of the music. She'd seen the lyrics before

"_I've got your picture, that you gave to me. _

_And it still looks the same, as when you gave it to me._

_The only thing different. The only thing new._

_I've got your pictures. She's got you_

_I've got your memory._

_Or has it got me._

_I really don't know, but I know. It won't let me be. _

_I've got these little things. But, she's got you."_

Faye finished singing and her throat felt weak, but stronger than ever. The man finished playing the piano with great patience and enjoyment. Just as he hit the last key, he rose. He looked at her. "You really do sing. I'm sorry I doubted. I have to remember sometimes that to sing you must feel exactly what you are singing. Well, are you willing to take the job?"

"Sure," Faye said smiling. Her heart was full of excitement. For once she didn't think about money first, she thought about the fact that someone had appreciated her singing. The man definitely knew about music; anyone could tell.

"Good, because I couldn't stand losing a talent like you." Mr. Luther headed out of the room and everyone followed behind him. "Charles, you better learn whatever songs this lady wants to sing. Williams, you better get that designer over here and have her style a dress for her. Miss, Valentine, is it?"

"Yes, sir," Stephen replied.

"Is that right?" he asked her. "Miss Valentine?"

"Yes," she answered. "Faye Valentine."

"Perfect…Stephen, get everything ready, I want to have her as part of the act this Friday. Would that be fine, Miss Valentine? Could you do that?"

"Sure. I'm a shoot-for-the-stars type of gal."

**MMN To Be Continued NMM**

For all of you who have gotten this far, here is an imaginative cookie for you! If you have reviewed, have a whole jar of cookies! Thank you to: iluvjellybeans and justaweirdgurl.

I hope that update was fast enough. Wow, I'm kind of being exhausted. I write, but I've been writing so much lately, it just kind of tires me out really quick. Before I forget, Faye didn't get that much talking in this chapter, but I figured that it was more business conversations than any thing. Does that make sense?

I've been pretty busy, so I'm hoping you had enough patience to wait for this chapter. Although, I did have time to update my profile a little, it's bilingual now, yep. I became a Beta reader/writer too. Alrighty, back to Final Fantasy 7.

_**Please Review. My imagination likes reviews, and so do my cramping hands.**_

_**Thanks for reading! See you soon Cowboys and Cowgirls!**_


	6. Anxiousness

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. But, for sure you've heard the name Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff).

I'm sorry if the last chapter wasn't as thrilling, or…I don't know, I can't think of the word. (Ironic, isn't it? An author who can't think of a way to say something.) I guess I just considered it more of a transition than anything. I didn't want things in this chapter to seem awfully unconnected, so I just used the last chapter as a transition.

Again. Sorry for typos, grammar, and spelling errors.

That's about it, _on with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

Damn. One month. Four weeks. Thirty days. Hours. Seconds…Damn. One month. He was still alive after one month. This wasn't right. He didn't have a purpose anymore. Spike closed his eyes. One month. And nothing. Just more bounty hunting to make the day. To not starve. To have a drink. To have a smoke. But nothing else. No sign of anyone. No sign of Jet. No Ed and Ein. No. Faye. No bebop.

He got up from the old bed in the small motel room. Spike stretched his neck as he turned the television on and slumped down on bed again. He closed his eyes and fell asleep. He was tired and by the sounds of his stomach hungry too. One month.

He was having such a pleasant rest; the television in the background filling up the emptiness of the room. He lazily opened one of his eyes, a show about Mars, a traveling channel. It didn't matter. He wasn't watching it anyway. He closed his eyes again. He needed some sleep.

Spike dreamt of sleeping on his yellow, worn couch. He dreamt of Jet cooking those mushrooms and beef. He dreamt of Ein running around Ed whiles she hacked into a computer. He dreamt of Faye singing. And it hurt.

His stomach grumbled and his sleep was taken. He sat up in bed, with his hands over his eyes. He tried to rub the sleep off them, but he could still hear Faye singing. He stared at his hands and pinched himself. No. He was awake. Spike stretched himself a bit more. He needed to go catch a bounty. But what was with that singing? Where the hell was it coming from? He covered his ears for a few seconds then took his hands away. No. The singing was still there. But it wasn't only the singing. It was the television too. "Everything that a heart needs found at the Blue Moon." Spike was about to place his hand over his eyes again. The images of luxurious, comfortable beds, pools, and casinos were doing him no good. But those images weren't what suddenly kept his hand floating a few inches parallel to his mouth rather than over his eyes, it was she. Faye. Singing.

Spike rose from bed and walked over to the television. Maybe he was imagining things. Going crazy or something. But no. There was Faye singing. Those were her eyes. Her hair. Her lips…But. No. What was he thinking? What could Faye be doing on TV? Well, with no bounty on her head. He walked closer to the screen, the hand that was supposed to cover his eyes extending to the screen. His fingers came closer and closer to her face. And then she faded. A logo covered the screen. His hand dropped. "Visit the Blue Moon Casino and Hotel."

"Faye?" He said to the screen.

"Call now to make reservations." And then it stopped. Her singing.

Faye. Had that been her? Had to be. Surely she would not have died in those five years? Right. She had to be alive. He'd been looking for the crew, but hadn't found a trace. And now this. This could lead him to Jet too. And probably Ed and Ein, well if they had returned. He could find them again. And maybe that would help him find that little bit he couldn't remember. He smirked. He was starting to sound like Faye.

"The Blue Moon." Spike said. He wouldn't get anywhere just standing there. He picked up his jacket from the corner of the bed and walked out of the room.

**II-II II-II II-II**

The buildings looked just like on television; except bigger, the screen had been pretty small after all. He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He took a drag examining the entrance. Somehow, he felt restless. And he hated it. Hated the fact that it had been five years. Hated to admit things had changed; even if he wasn't there to see them. He blew the smoke out of his lungs. Anxious.

He walked passively past the entrance and found himself surrounded by that wonderful, deadly addicting gambling atmosphere. Women and men gambling their lives away at machine slots and card games. He smiled. This would definitely be a place to find Faye. He walked around a little more. Tried his luck once and tripled his currency. He decided to ease his life a little. Spike walked to one of the casino employees.

"Excuse me. Does a woman work here that's not bad looking, about this tall, with green ey—"

"Green eyes. Good looking. You must mean Miss Valentine?"

"Miss Valentine?"

"Yes. She sings in the other side of the building at night," said the employee.

"That's her."

"If you are wondering when she performs, it's every night at nine; but sings only about fifteen minutes, usually three songs. Except on Sunday. On Sunday she sings for thirty minutes."

"You sure know a lot about her," Spike said.

"I'm lucky enough to have my shift over just before her show. I go watch her every day."

Spike stared at him for a second, some guy. "Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome." The guy smiled largely.

Spike turned and headed out of that part of the building. There was a clock hanging on the wall, he gazed at it. There was an hour left until he would see her. The hallway was full of people walking back and forth in a thousand different directions. He continued his steady steps until he reached yet another luxurious arched entrance. Besides this one, there was a schedule, and sure enough there was Faye's name. He took a look around and walked in.

He took a seat on a table hidden in the corner of the large room. He took his jacket off and made himself comfortable. A waiter came and Spiked asked him for a drink. He had enough for five more if he needed them. Spike lit another cigarette and joined the others in filling the room with smoke. His foot fidgeted under the table and his gaze shifted around the room as he tried to make time pass by quickly.

"Hello there," a woman said. Spike turned to face her. "Care if I join you?" He looked at her. She was a lovely woman. He said nothing, but she took a seat anyway. She ordered a drink. "So, what are you doing?"

"Waiting," he said. He didn't really mind having her there. It wasn't the first time he drank with a woman he didn't know. Of course, after one drink, he usually found a way to have them leave. Now that he remembered, on several occasions he'd been the one to ask them if they cared to join him. But after the first drink, he paid and walked away. All he was looking for was just some company, a drinking buddy, and that was all.

She tried to make some conversation. But somehow, Spike couldn't focus on what she said. He just stared at the empty stage. Watched the lights dance. Some guy sing. Then the empty stage again. She didn't even last the entire drink. "Will you excuse me, I'm going to go the bathroom." She got up and grabbed her purse and mink coat. Spike knew she wouldn't be coming back. And he was glad. Her perfume was bitter.

He looked at her unfinished drink and finished it for her. No use to waste it. Just as he sat the glass down they announced her name. He froze. Faye. The curtains opened slowly. The music flowed from the stage and everyone was completely quiet. She walked out to the middle of the stage, swinging her hips with every step. Spike focused his eyes on her. Faye. She turned. Played with her hair. Moved her arms to the music. He saw her eyes meet several different men's gazes as his eyes called out her name. Suddenly. She turned. She faced his side of the hall. Her gaze was moving from the tables closer to the stage to those further away. It was slowly making its way towards him. He stood up. Her eyes were looking just a few tables away. Her gaze was close. He looked at her one last time. It was her. Closer. An anxiousness ran through his body. He quickly took his coat and walked out, not stopping at all.

He kept his gaze to the ground. That had been Faye. But she hadn't seen him. He hoped she hadn't. Who knows what she would have done if she'd seen a dead man living. He walked faster. He needed to get away. When he finally reached the street he breathed deeply. He'd found her. He continued walking quickly with his gaze away from the people on the streets. He accidentally bumped against someone's shoulder.

"Spike?"

He turned quickly and his eyes widened. This was one hell of a lucky day. "Jet?"

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

I've been pretty busy, so I'm hoping you had enough patience to wait for this chapter. Although, I did have time to update my profile a little, it's bilingual now, yep. I became a Beta reader/writer too. And I finally watched the Cowboy Bebop Movie! It was good.

I got the Blue Moon name from a career exercise that I did in the 8th grade. I ended up being a waitress (it was a random draw of occupations) that worked at the Blue Moon. Actually, I ended up having more money in the 'bank' than even the doctors. To classmates: take that! Neh. Just some random information.

_**Please Review. And Alexithimia, this one is fully dedicated to you.**_

_**Thanks for reading! See you soon Cowboys and Cowgirls!**_


	7. Kept

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. But, for sure you've heard the name Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff).

Short and sweet. Here is an update…Sorry for typos, grammar, and spelling errors.

O_n with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

The lights dimmed down on the stage and she was glad that her turn was over. Faye blinked trying to adjust her eyes to the poor lighting. She picked up the skirt of her dress and walked out. She yawned. Today she'd been very tired. Actually, for about two weeks she'd been extremely tired. But Faye didn't really mind, especially knowing that she was tired but at the same time happy.

"Miss Valentine!" an employee from the casino called after her. "You have a call from Mr. Luther." He handed her the communicator.

"Hello," she said answering.

"Don't forget you have a meeting today. He's already waiting for you in the VIP tables. He just asked me about you since you left the stage in such a hurry."

"I'm going to change clothes."

"No. Don't waste time. Go ahead and visit."

She made a face but answered that she'd be there in a minute. She handed the communicator back to the employer. He nodded his head once, almost a bow, and ran down the hallway to continue doing whatever it was that his job was. Faye sighed. She picked up her dress again and made her way to the VIP seats. She didn't have to look much for the table. She saw a quite attractive man with short black hair and blue eyes. He wore a black tuxedo with a dark red tie. She didn't have to think too much on the subject. When she passed nearby the table, the man rose to his feet and pulled the chair opposite of his out. Faye looked around to make sure he wasn't waiting for the company of someone else. He smiled at her and met her gaze. No. This was definitely the guy.

Faye took a seat and the man returned to his. He was pleasant to converse with and he drank wonderfully too. He, however, did not smoke. But that didn't bother Faye at all. She had found a reason to quit smoking, and although she didn't enjoy it at all, she was doing a good job at avoiding nicotine. The time passed by quickly and Faye learned about the man's daily job and enterprises, the things he liked to do on his free time, and that he was allergic to peanuts. After a while, Faye's lack of rest began catching up to her and she tried to cover up a small yawn. He asked if she was tired and Faye responded that if he didn't mind she'd like to rest for the day.

"It's a shame," he said. "I was enjoying your company."

"So was I." Faye halfway lied. Although he was a pleasant for conversation, he liked to be the one doing the most talking. "But I really need to get going. It's getting late and I'm expected at home now. Actually, I'm running a bit late."

"Why don't you let me take you home then? I'll be more than glad to help you."

"I live on the Milky Way," Faye said. The man laughed. "I'm not making any jokes. That's the name of the Blue Moon's employee apartments."

"Yes, of course." He got up and helped Faye out of her seat. "My chauffeur is ready to leave whenever, so it won't be any disruption to make a quick stop at the stars. How far is the Milky Way anyway?"

"It's only about five minutes from here."

"Very well, I'll be delighted to have your company for that time." He placed his arm and Faye hooked hers to his. She picked up her purse and they walked down to the car. The drive was just as eventful as the time they had spent together earlier. Faye was glad when they reached the steps of the Milky Way. However, she did not get out of the vehicle immediately. The man proposed to her if she would have him come in for a cup of coffee.

"It's not the best of ideas." Faye responded.

"Why is that?" The man said flustered.

"I don't live alone."

"What?" For the first time he used a one-word sentence.

"I don't live alone," Faye repeated. "I have company. And I rather not have any problems. So if you don't mind…" Faye opened the door of the vehicle and stepped out

"But."

She smiled at him. "Thanks for the drinks and the ride. I'll see you around."

"Y-yes," He stuttered. "Have a goodnight." But by the time he had answered Faye was out of hearing distance.

She made her way up the steps and into the reception of the apartments. The woman greeted her and Faye waved back as she stepped into the elevator and waited patiently as the numbers changed from single to double-digit numbers. When she arrived at her floor, the doors opened and she walked out.

"Hey Faye," A woman greeted her.

"Are you going to work today?" Faye asked.

"Yeah. It's that day of the week…You know, it's kind of sad that after we age too much for their liking we'll be out of a job."

"Isn't it the same with every other job? They just keep you for as long as you're any good to them."

"I suppose. Hey, but if anything I'm going to live this life as best as I can. I don't want to believe I'm living in a dream. —Oh! I better leave; the girls are going to kill me if I'm late again. See you later Faye!" She waved back and took her place in the elevator. Faye watched the doors close and then continued walking to her room.

Faye stood in front of her door and opened her purse looking for the key. However, in a few seconds the door opened quickly and widely. Faye smiled as she saw the redhead greet her.

"Hello, Faye-Faye!"

"Hey, Ed. Did Jet come by?" Faye said walking into the apartment and taking her heels off.

"Nope," Ed responded as she followed Faye into her room humming an upbeat song. Faye took her dress off and slipped into something more comfortable while Ed performed a sort of dance routine around the room. She suddenly stopped. "Ed is hungry."

"Yeah. Faye is hungry too." Faye walked out into the kitchen. She began pulling several things out from the fridge trying to decide what to have for dinner, drinking on an empty stomach was not one of her preferences. The doorbell went off. "That must be Jet."

"I'll open the door!" Ed ran back to the door. It took her a while to get back and Faye wondered what could be taking her so long. She left the things setting on the island of the kitchen and started walking to the entrance hallway. She called out to them but they did not respond. She walked a little bit more quickly and pulled her gun out. She'd always kept it strapped to her thigh—just in case. She turned carefully and pointed her gun at whomever it was that was there. Ed stared wide eyed at the gun. "It's just me Faye-Faye."

"Sorry." She put the gun up. "So who was it?"

"Jet-person!" She smiled. "And—" She pulled her voice down to a whisper. "He had to leave. Yep. Yep. He said he'd bumped into an old friend. So he left." Faye looked at Ed's face. "Jet-person is coming Sunday!" Ed shouted.

"Okay," Faye responded a little confused and feeling something was being kept from her. "Let's get dinner."

"Yay!" Ed said and swung her arms as they walked back. "You know what Faye-Faye?"

"Huh?"

"Ed feels like beef and 'shroms!"

Faye thought about it for a second. "You know, it doesn't sound half bad."

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

One of the things I couldn't remember from Cowboy Bebop was the name they used for a cell phone. I couldn't remember if it was even called a cell phone or if it was an electronic-portable-communication-thingy-magigy. No. But honestly I couldn't remember the name they used…

_**Please Review. And Alexithimia, this one is fully dedicated to you again.**_

_**I'd like to hear from some of you who have added my story to your alerts lists or to the favorites lists. I really can't tell what it is that you like about my story by simply having it added to your alerts or favorites. I really do appreciate it, but it would be nice to hear something from you at least once in a while, and well, it's been seven chapters.**_

_**Thanks for reading! See you soon Cowboys and Cowgirls!**_


	8. Lost

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. Do the names Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff) sound familiar?

Hello. In case you were beginning to wonder, I'm still working on this. Any notes, I'll leave for the end. With that known—_on with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

It was fine. It was perfectly okay for him to stand waiting at the steps of the Milky Way, watching the people pass by on the sidewalk and on the street. He blew out smoke from his mouth, attempting to do a fancy ring of smoke or something. And Failing. He waited patiently. He could wait. Definitely could. He stretched his arms and shoulders. He still felt his body sore and somewhat stiff. He heard Jet calling him and turned to face him.

"Alright Spike." He pointed to a window, one located almost to the top of the building. "Do you see that?"

Spike looked up and he could make out orange hair and long arms almost jumping out of the window, waving frantically. He waved back and the body retreated back into the building. "Ed," he said more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah. Five years make quite a difference…Want a drink?"

"How did you guess?" He flicked off the ashes of his cigarette and he and Jet walked down the steps and into the stream of walking people on the sidewalks.

When they were sitting at the bar, they didn't speak much. Mostly, enjoying each other's company. Spike would never admit it. But he somehow missed Jet. Even if he'd been unconscious for five years. Never really feeling the extent of time. The thing was. In that one month that he'd been, 'alive' again; there was really nothing for him. And it was when he finally saw Jet again that he felt the grief of not being there for five years sink in. He'd been like a needle in water and the friction had suddenly broken. And he drowned. Drowned in the reality of his absence. Submerged back into life.

It wasn't that he'd only missed Jet. He missed Faye too. And seeing her on that screen was what drowned him again. Reminded him for a fraction of a second that maybe there was something for him. But it faded quickly, like blood in running water. And now he was back into an emptiness filled with alcohol and cigarette smoke.

He'd missed Ed too. And Ein. But in the end, maybe it wasn't that he missed Jet, or Faye, or Ed, or Ein. Maybe all he missed was the life he used to have. A life run by the thought of running away with Julia. But she was dead. He'd been dead too. Wished that she was alive, or that he was dead. Either way she was out of his life. And this time, there was no hope of him seeing her again. She was gone. Nothing could change that. His life didn't have a path anymore; he hadn't found one to follow. Spike was lost in a dense wood of his own emotions and feelings. He was trying to reunite himself with Jet, Faye, Ed, and even Ein. That was familiar ground. He hoped that from there he could find a path again.

"Ed wanted you to go visit her," Jet said.

Spike broke his thoughts. "How did she find you," he said with his lips a few centimeters from his glass.

"She's still a hacker. Apparently she'd been keeping track of us all, including you, for five years. A few days after that Blue Moon's commercial was filmed, Ed found it and she knew exactly where Faye was. Ed told me it was the hardest thing to keep up with her. Barely ever was in hospitals, which surprised me seeing all the trouble she got in. I guess I wasn't that hard to track. And you. Well, she finally found you in a hospital but it wasn't what she expected. Anyway. She finally found Faye and she decided to visit her. She's been there for about two weeks now."

"Huh." Spike said. "Didn't you keep in touch with Faye?"

"Hardly could. I didn't see her for over a year at all. Then one day she showed up and from then on I saw her about once every couple of months. Then, just this year she's had a habit of visiting at least once a month, all she used to do was have a smoke or drink, then leave. Since Ed is back. We figured we'd have a reunion and I've been visiting them at Faye's apartment a few times a week." He paused. Chuckled. "Didn't expect to see you join the party."

But he hadn't yet. And it finally came to Spike. Remembered how he'd been unable to stand at the Blue Moon and have Faye's gaze touch him. Afraid that she'd collapse from shock. "Jet. How am I–" he stopped his own voice. Unable to finish his thought or sentence. He stared at the ice left in his glass, feeling Jet's eyes on him.

"Show up." Jet finished.

"Yeah."

"The truth is, Spike, I have no idea…Surprised me to see you. Swore I was seeing ghosts—But I guess that I can expect anything from you and that's what kept me from having a heart attack. That. And Ed told me about your records. But—so far as I know, Faye doesn't know." He stopped to have a drink. "I guess it's your call."

"But." Spike said. "When I left."

"I remember." Jet said solemnly resting his head on the palm of his hand, his elbow near the end of the table. Spike looked at him. Wondered what was going on in his head. Probably remembering something, a distant memory.

Spike lit another cigarette and let the silence settle again. They didn't say anything else while they sat in the bar. About the time the clock struck eleven, Jet got up from the stool and paid for both his drinks and Spike's. They walked out into the street. The wind a cool breeze, ruffling their hair and the ends of their loose clothes. They walked to the end of the sidewalk and stood under a crossing.

"I'm living this way," Spike said nodding to the left.

"I'm this way," Jet said slightly pointing with his right hand in the opposite direction.

"I'll go visit you tomorrow then."

"Nah." Jet said. "I don't think you could find me. There's a large supply of bounties around here and I'm moving around town like crazy…Let's meet here instead, sometime around eight."

Spike nodded. Pretended to tip his hat in sign of goodbye. They walked away from each other. Spike unwilling to walk too quickly, wondering if he'd find Jet the next day. He shrugged his shoulders and placed his hands in his pockets, making his stride even again. He had no idea what he was going to do. But he knew one thing for sure, that sort of thing, couldn't be controlled.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

Sorry if this chapter is way overdue! But you have no idea how busy I've been, I feel sick, and all my teachers are pressuring me to do extremely well in some academic events, "All the way to state!" They say. Well, I'm thinking, Texas is pretty big. I think I'm actually being burned out, I feel like the more work and stuff they give me to do, the more that I get sick. It's like my body wears out or something. And I can't even sleep because I'm always thinking of what I'm supposed to do…I'm so tired! And what is worse is that it worked. I've been away from home since Thursday in competitions. I got third in my competition, literary criticism, so I'm going to state after all. (What's better is that first and second were only a point away from me. They chose first and second with the tie-breaker since they had scored the same.) And after that competition I went to an art competition where I medaled (There is no placing in that competition. It's all based on a standard.)

Anyway, I'm sorry if this chapter is not too thrilling either. It'll start to build up, trust me.

I have a poll on my profile; I'd appreciate if you could take it. It's not difficult at all. I just want to know my readers a bit more. I really don't mind if you don't review today, although I would deeply appreciate it, but please take the poll. Ah! And sorry for the mistakes in grammar, spelling, and typing.

_**If you have time, please Review.**_

_**If you reviewed anytime after the last chapter was posted. This is for you! That and an imaginary cookie!**_

_**Thanks for reading! See you soon (hopefully) Cowboys and Cowgirls!**_


	9. Breaking

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. Do the names Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff) sound familiar?

Look, a quick, but really short update—_on with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

She'd drank too much. And she hated weddings. She didn't know how she let Ed talk her into going. No. It wasn't Ed. It was the bride, the new Mrs. Wilson. The way she'd talked and talked about weddings, her wedding, and the face that she had made. Her eyes large as she handed her the invitation. And she'd let herself be weak and smiled and nodded. And now was stuck. Stuck in a ballroom full of calla lilies and orange blossoms. And happiness. And love.

But in all of this happiness, there was a lot of expensive champagne. The party was still long from over and she'd had enough. She knew she should stop. Stop before it became too obvious how numb and uncoordinated she had become. Stop before her employer knew the bad image she was making of herself.

Faye walked to the bride and the groom and excused herself, blaming her departure on a terrible migraine. Walked down the steps. Waited for the car to come to the front. Sat down. Drank a bit more of the champagne and whiskey in the vehicle. She didn't realize when the car stopped. When the driver helped her out. When he practically carried her up the steps. Pass the door. Up the elevator to her room. Faye smiled at him. Opened the door. "Thanks," she said and kissed him. He blushed. Deeply. Faye took no notice as she stepped into her home.

She struggled to reach her room as she walked in the stilettos. Threw her purse on the bed. Pulled the shoes off. Tugged at the zipper of the dress. Stuck. She hated that dress. Stupid zipper. She called for Ed. Wanted help getting out of the dress, stupid dress. "Ed!" Faye called. Finally she heard steps and she turned her back to the door. "This stupid thing is stuck." She pulled the zipper and let her hands fall to her sides as she failed yet again. She felt the zipper being tugged. Unstuck. Glide slowly down. She didn't turn back to thank her. "If you're hungry just order something. I'm going to sleep." She stepped out of the dress carelessly and slipped a large shirt over her body. She pulled the blankets from her bed, and with her eyes already closed, climbed in and covered herself.

She pulled her legs close to her body. Hugged herself with her shaking hands. Felt her stomach melt and sadness swell in her throat. She finally felt all her emotions breaking. And knew exactly why she cried. And didn't care that her white sheets would be stained from her running make-up. She let herself get lost in thoughts and feelings. She knew she missed him. Wished he were there. Knew he was not. But she was okay with that. She'd learn to deal with it all. Knew that in the morning, when there were no more tears left in her, she'd be okay again. All of these feelings. She couldn't control them. And hated them all.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

Hello. I wanted to have this here, mostly because the next chapter needs to be from Spike's point of view for everything to make sense. That and I thought there needed to be a little more insight of Faye.

Remember, please take the poll located in my profile.

_**If you read this, this if for you, that and an imaginary cake, chocolate cake, unless you like vanilla!**_

_**Thanks for reading! See you soon (hopefully) Cowboys and Cowgirls!**_


	10. Crazy Dreams

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. Do the names Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff) sound familiar? The song used here is by Patsy Cline and is called Crazy Dreams.

Look, a quick, but really short update—_on with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

He closed the door behind him. Wondered if it was okay to leave her so drunk. Decided it was fine. She could drink plenty. At least she used to. But he figured that she still did. Or at least he hoped. Wanted something to be the same as in the past. He turned away from the door. Tried to forget Faye for a little.

He liked this place. Luxurious enough. Plenty of everything around. He stretched and yawned. Ed came running to Faye's room. She stared wide-eyed at Spike. "Faye-Faye called?"

"Yeah, she's fine now…Hey, you hungry?" Spike said. Ed stared at him again.

Ed looked at her stomach. Thought about it for a second. "Yes!" Stared back at Spike. "Faye-Faye?"

"She's just drunk," then reading the girls curious eyes continued, "Didn't even notice it was me." Wondered if he regretted it.

She sighed, obviously disapproving. But hunger beat her. "Let's eat. I'll order pizza!" She called someplace and ordered a double-cheese-all-topping pizza. Sat down on the floor and stared at Spike who was sitting down on the couch. Was she trying to read him? Spike held his cigarette, ready to light. Looked around for an ash tray. "Faye doesn't smoke. For now anyway," The not-so-much-a-girl-anymore said.

Spike's eyebrow rose a little. "Why is that?"

"I made a bet with Faye-Faye," and as she smiled Spike could see the difference that five years had made on her. What had happened in that time? He smiled back at her.

"Is that so?" He looked at his cigarette and put it up, placed it behind his ear. He'd have it on the way back home. Then, he propped his elbow on the arm of the couch and rested his head on the palm of his hand. "Hey, Ed." He was curious. Wanted to know more. "What else's been going on?"

"Well," Ed said. "Where can I start…"

**II-II II-II II-II**

Jet hadn't visited Faye and Ed in weeks. Or at least not that Spike knew. But the only reason Jet gave was that there were too many bounties to be caught at the time. And Spike couldn't argue. Especially when he was slowly making his way around a warehouse trying to catch the head of yet another gang. Slowly. Quietly. He caught sight of beach-blond hair. That must be him. Gun ready to fire, slowly around the corner. Quickly. Out. Gun pointed to head—dead? The guy was dead already. Damn it. Spike called Jet and told him everything about it. As he spoke, he looked around the room—Bomb, counting down. Oh. Damn. He dashed, running as fast as he could. There was no way he could stop that. Reached the closest door. Stupid thing was locked. He shot the thing down and ran again. He heard it. Felt his heart stop. Felt the ground tremble. The heat on his back. Fell to the ground. Covered his head. Heard the warehouse fall to pieces. Breathed shallowly. Fragments fell behind him. On him. Small pieces. Then it stopped. Deadly silent.

He got up. A bolt ran down his left leg ankle. He looked at his leg and saw his skin charred, the edges brown and the pink, magenta, and red being exposed. He shook the dust away from his shoulders and hair. Pulled out his cigarette and lit it. He called Jet again. Took a drag.

"What the hell happened?" Jet asked a bit angered.

"There was a bomb in the building. The stupid blast almost killed me." He took another drag. "Hey, come pick me up."

"Yeah, I'm already on my way. You okay?"

"Fine…my leg got hit but that's all." Spike breathed out, the smoke slowly exiting his mouth. "This was a trap for those two we caught earlier. Wasn't it?"

"Had to be. That's were they were going to—that was one hell of a bomb. I see the warehouse now. Okay, Spike I'll be there in a second." He hung up. Spike waited for Jet to get there. Finished his cigarette and lit another.

**II-II II-II II-II**

After his leg had been wrapped, Spike was trying to take a nap on the big yellow couch. Kept one eye open, looking at the empty spots in the living room. Yawned. He laid his arm over his eyes, shut both of them tightly. But he couldn't sleep. He felt as if flies walked through the damaged flesh of his leg. He lay with his eyes closed. Hearing the slow rumble of the engine and all the mechanical sounds of the bebop. Jet's steps slowly making his way nearer to him.

"A little burn got you so down?" he asked sitting across from Spike.

"Nah," Spike said. "It's just a small scratch…" He took his arm away from his eyes and looked at Jet. "We're you going?" he asked sitting up.

"I haven't been to Faye's in a while. She's singing tonight. So Ed and I are gonna go watch. Maybe after Faye's finished we'll go out for a late dinner or something…" Jet started walking out then turned around. "Wanna come?"

There was a second of hesitation. What the hell, it was bound to happen. Spike got up from the couch. Hated the stinging in his leg. Tried to convince himself it was all for a good dinner. He picked up his coat and walked past Jet. "Aren't you coming?"

Jet nodded. Half unbelieving.

**II-II II-II II-II**

He did not see Faye until she came into the stage. She looked just like her old self, fit in a gown that probably cost a week's income. Glitter on her shoulders, neck, and chest. A bit on the cheeks. Not too much. The lights gave her an awkward shine. But it was the glitter. Had to be. He sat between Jet and Ed, halfway in a shadow. He talked to them, mostly questions. He needed to fill in the gaps. But they didn't seem to bother that he'd missed so much. Instead, they focused on the fact that he was there. And it finally rubbed on him, dug under his skin. And now he was sharing the moment with them, not just being part of the backdrop.

Ed sat pulling at the tight seams of her dress. Surprising she'd wear one—it didn't quite seem like her. Someone came over asked her to dance. She smiled. Told the guy to ask her Dad. Jet shook his head. The guy left, wavering a little, possibly from drinking. Ed sat quietly until the guy was away. She looked at Jet. "That's 56. Faye-Faye better watch out." Threw her fist in the air from excitement.

Spike looked at Ed and Jet with a look that made them both laugh at him. "Ed made a bet with Faye-Faye," was all that Ed would say. Spike shrugged his shoulders, figured that he'd find it out sooner or later. He didn't have any plans to leave. He liked their company. Wanted to get Faye's company too. Wanted to be able to walk into a room with someone else smoking. Or wake up and have a drink first thing in the morning with someone else. Suddenly wondered how many cigarettes and how much alcohol he'd had in his life. Wondered how much he'd be able to take.

Faye was singing another song. He liked this one. Wondered why. Knew why.

"_I had a dream last night that I held you  
And you still seemed as handsome to me  
But when I awoke I found you missin'  
It's just another crazy dream for me."_

Thought it ironical that she was singing it. Hated the fact that they were too much alike. That she could feel the same things he could. And not know it.

"_Crazy dreams linger on as I face an empty dawn  
With no end to it all can I see  
For I've surely reached the end  
Lost your love to a friend  
Just another crazy dream for me"_

Hated that she was more like him than anyone he'd met. Hated that sometimes she was him, more than he was himself.

"_Once you were mine and we were so happy  
I never thought that the end soon would be"_

Hey Faye. That's what he'd say. Then she'd stare back and tell him some sort of smart comment. He'd tell her something back and grin. Then she'd retort something. And then everything would be fine.

"_But now that you're gone, and I'm so lonesome  
It's just another crazy dream for me"_

She was not like Julia. She was his comrade. He didn't want her to know. But, an excellent friend.

"_Crazy dreams linger on as I face an empty dawn"_

And maybe that was exactly why. Exactly why she was so real. Because. She was not Julia.

"_With no end to it all can I see"  
_

Unafraid. And fearing every second of her life. Of everyone's life. But still unafraid.

"_For I've surely reached the end"  
_

Or maybe she was too courageous. No. She was flexible. Tried to adjust as things came.

"_Lost your love to a friend"  
_

But maybe he was just idolizing her. Before he left, she'd become weak.

"_Just another crazy dream for me"_

But so had he. They'd share a moment of weakness.

And now, he didn't quite hear what she was saying. Only saw her figure moving across the stage, followed by the lights. Saw her lips moving, but too focused on his own thoughts to a point where he couldn't even clearly hear himself. Too many thoughts. Blinked. Loud sound. Gun.

He got up from his chair. Looked everywhere around the room for the direction of the fired shot. He'd heard it for sure. Besides him, Ed and Jet were on their feet as well. Spike looked at Jet. And in realization, they turned to the stage. Faye slowly crumbling. Spike cursed and saw nothing happening. No one in the room moved. No person was heading to the exit. They were frozen. He pulled out his gun instinctively. Wanted to shoot someone. Anything. Wanted to know where the bullet came from.

"Faye!" Ed said and ran down to the stage. "Faye-Faye!" Jet tried to pull her back. But he was probably just as worried. Instead hurried with her over to the stage. Spike followed behind. They'd all grown careless. He regretted running after them. For God's sake, whoever had shot Faye could shoot all of them.

Somehow he managed to get there first. Faye's eyes closed tightly. She lay on the ground. Her hands wrapped around her sides. She panted. Heaved. Shook with pain. "Damn it." She cursed between chattering teeth. Spike got to her. Forgot he'd been gone. He took her body and sat her up. She didn't need to choke on her own blood. He looked around again. Caught sight of movement. Saw the guy. He aimed—the lights went out. Cursed that he hadn't been quick enough.

Spike carried Faye out of the stage in the darkness with Ed pulling him in the right direction. Jet called for help and lit the decorative candles for light. Behind the stage there were many lounge seats. Spike sat Faye down in one of them. He looked at his hands. Red. Wondered how much she was really bleeding under that black dress. Ed ran and came back with a handful of cloth napkins. A crowd building behind them.

"Get back!" Jet shouted. Spike tore the side of Faye's dress and found the wound. He tried to get the bullet out. But failed. He decided to try and stop the bleeding. He looked at Faye. Her eyes halfway open. Her lips dry and shaking, a ghost of a smile. Spike took the napkins and put pressure to her side, hoping the bleeding would end. Time had stopped. Seemed to stop, unlike Faye's blood.

When the ambulance came, he didn't know how many napkins he'd used. Spike carried Faye to the entrance. She was silent. Felt like a puppet in his hands. He sat her down on the carrying bed, her body melting away from him. As her hand left the back of his neck, he heard her whisper with her eyes almost closed. "Some crazy dream."

Spike saw the ambulance doors shut. Ed gone with them. Turned back and saw the building burst into life again. He walked in looking for Jet. A woman stared at him and ran away. Needed to find Jet. He walked back to the lounge. Saw the seat that he'd laid Faye down on. Her body a crimson imprint. For the first time, he felt the need to look at himself. Scarlet all over him. His hands, his torso, his sleeves, and even his neck were sticky red. Spike rubbed the tips of his fingers together, feeling a sick need to clean up.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

Is that an update? Well, indeed it is. If you're wondering why it took so long, remember I'm about to graduate high school so this is one very, very busy time of the year. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it. Oh, and please wish me luck for State Literary Criticism. I'm nervous.

Anyway, please review. If you have gotten this far, this chapter goes to you.

_**Thanks for reading! See you soon (hopefully) Cowgirls! (There doesn't seem to be any Cowboys around…shame.)**_


	11. Bittersweet

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. Do the names Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff) sound familiar?

Update! I hope you're still enjoying the story if there is something that you like, or don't like for that matter, please review and tell me. _On wit__h the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

When she felt the warmth on her face, she expected to be dead. Maybe lounging around in heaven, or more suitably in hell. Well. She really had to think about where she'd rather be. First, Faye wondered where Julia and Spike where. If they were both in heaven, she'd live happily in hell. But. If they both ended up in hell, and she also found herself there, she swore she'd tear her beating heart out. But if that was the case, that both he and Julia where in hell, then she hoped she was in heaven. Or at least purgatory. Just not where they were together.

But she knew she wasn't dead. She heard that after death there was no pain and her body was aching, shaking from the hurt. So even if she felt that certain warmth on her face, she knew that she was still alive. She didn't want to open her eyes. Not because she knew the room was bright. But because she had seen him again. That hallucination. His form and easy stride. She saw him in other people. And that night, she remembered. Seeing. Feeling. Smelling. Him and blood. And nothing more. So maybe it was all just a compilation of a passage to death, a passage she'd managed to get back from.

And she was afraid. Faye didn't want to open her eyes for fear that she would not see him again, but at the same time, she was afraid that if she opened her eyes, he would be there. Her heart managed to accelerate. A sort of desperation settled in. The machine she was attached to beeped in waves. First quickly, and as she managed to control herself, slowly. But her closed eyes were shutting even more tightly and she didn't want anything to happen. She moved her hand over her face and pressed it strongly against her eyes.

She thought she heard steps. Carefully placed on the ground. Her torso became an endless well of swarming, black water. She begged, pleaded, for nothing. She wanted to just not have anything happen. She want—

"Faye."

_No_. She thought. _Please don't._

The steps stopped. But that familiar, long unheard voice echoed in her head. _Please go away._ Faye took her hand away from her eyes, keeping them securely shut. She internally blocked everything around her. She didn't need to break. Not again. Faye had thought about this. Made hundreds and thousands of 'what if' scenarios. She knew what to do. After he'd say her name, she'd recognize his presence. Then. Then, he would say something smart. And then Faye would retort something. And then everything would be fine.

"Faye—"

"Hey." She said quickly. Rushing it out of her throat. The words stuck to the back of her mouth and she couldn't say anything more. And she couldn't force herself to open her eyes. He didn't say anything and Faye felt her hands begin to shake, not because of the pain, but of anxiousness. Since he didn't respond, Faye tried again. "Hey cowboy." That was better, much smoother. Cracking a bit, but good enough.

He must have understood. "You slept a lot." But it didn't sound quite like Faye had wished. It didn't have much of a sting. It was not loud enough. It wasn't mocking. It was just plain truth. She tried to say something back, but couldn't. Maybe he noticed the difference too and tried to make up for it. "You slept like a log." There it was. A little better. She heard his steps again and heard him getting closer and closer. She opened her eyes quickly and turned to face him. He looked at her and easily took a seat on the chair besides her bed. Their eyes seemed to be locked.

She opened her mouth to speak. But seeing him there seemed unreal. She wanted him to go away. She took her eyes away from him. She didn't want to feel anything for him. Faye gave his eyes a quick glance and pretended to look out of the window, the light hitting her face warmly. He didn't tell her anything. They sat in silence. Faye could hear him breathing, almost impossible to hear. She wanted to speak. And as she tried to say something to challenge him, all that managed to escape her lips was truth.

"This is some game we're playing." She said, her eyes trying to focus on the world outside the room, concentrate on the bird nestled on a nearby tree.

He must have known what she meant. Spike didn't try to tease her. Faye finally tore her gaze away from the window and looked into the room. She stared at him as he took a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it. She stopped pretending everything was fine and that his appearance was nothing. When she saw the small ring of smoke lift from his lips, she smiled noticing the familiarity.

"This is a non-smoking zone," she said and turned her head on the bed, comfortably allowing herself to stare at him. She tried not to blink, afraid that if she did he'd be gone. She didn't want him gone. Not now that he'd finally spoken to her. Not now that she knew he wasn't a hallucination. Not now that she felt the need to see him.

He took another drag and grinned. "When has that ever stopped me?"

"I suppose you're right. Seems like nothing can." And for a second her eyes glazed over with memories. But she blinked, caught herself doing so, and opened her eyes widely. He was still there.

"Hey Faye. Were you cold?" Faye looked at him questioningly. "I mean with the cryogenics."

She remembered that feeling of loneliness that overcame her when she thought about the years she'd spent in that situation. "Yes," She said. And even though she was living now, she wondered if it would have been better to have died then. But as she continued to look at Spike, she was glad she was alive. "You know, most of my memory is back. It's coming slowly."

"That's good." But as he said it, is sounded fake. He seemed to have been bothered, or so Faye thought. They didn't say anything more. Faye waited patiently as he finished his smoke. Tried not to lick her lips. She felt an urge for nicotine. And now, the closest thing she could find was watching Spike smoke. She watched as his hand carefully placed the cigarette between his lips and how the smoke escaped and how it caressed his face before it faded. And watched as he did it again and a new smoky hand ran its fingers across his face.

When he finished smoking, Faye realized how long she'd been staring at him and decided to not do so for so long anymore. However, he didn't seem to mind. He casually took a pomegranate from the table of food, the one he was supposed to have eaten the night before. He pealed it and the soft wombs surrounding the seeds broke, the scarlet liquid tainted his fingers. Faye saw Spike rub the tips of his fingers together for a second. Then, he finished peeling the rest of the fruit. He looked at her and she felt her heart stop.

"Here." he told Faye. He was about to toss it to her, but one of her hands, slightly shaking, extended to reach it. He handed it to her and Faye casually ran her fingers over his hand. She took the fruit slowly and sat up. She made a face as the pain on her side shot across her body. "You'll be fine." Spike said. "The doctor said so." He stood up. "I'm going to wash my hands." He started out of the room, not even looking back.

Faye wanted to shout to him. Tell him to come back. Felt that history was repeating. But she couldn't. Just like she hadn't been able to do so in the past. She distracted herself by putting the flesh of the pomegranate in her mouth. She tasted the sweet and bitter flavors of the fruit. She swallowed and licked her lips and whispered. "Please." But she knew he couldn't hear her. She stared at her hand, the one that had touched him, and saw a bead of the pomegranate juice slowly sliding. She tasted it. Bittersweet. That was the way things always seemed to be with Spike. She tore more flesh from the pomegranate and as it landed on her tongue, she felt her face blushing, and wondered why now the pomegranate tasted like Spike.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

Well, no luck at Literary Criticism, a scholastic contest in which you study and interpret literature. The good news is that I updated. Hooray!

This chapter is dedicated to well, the first guy that decides to take the poll on my profile. So, if you are a guy, don't be shy and take the poll, hey, and why not leave a review as well.

_**Thanks for reading! See you soon Cowgirls! (And Cowboys if there are any around...)**_


	12. Unsettled

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. Do the names Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff) sound familiar?

Update! I hope you're still enjoying the story if there is something that you like, or don't like for that matter, please review and tell me. _On wit__h the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

The thing about smiling is that it always gave you away. It told people that you were happy. And depending on how widely you smiled, they could tell how happy you were. But Spike was a master at this type of thing. He'd trained himself, and now, the only thing that managed to escape him was an occasional grin. Well, unless he intentionally allowed himself to smile. But today wasn't one of those days. Today was a small grin type of day. It was a day that had started out much better than he had expected it to have been. Much. Much better.

Well, the only thing that bothered him was the pomegranate juice in his fingers. It felt just as sticky as blood. And, no matter how used to being drained in blood he was, it bothered him. He kept looking at his sticky fingers as he walked down the hall of the hospital. He looked around. No. He did not like hospitals. But it wasn't like he ever did to begin with.

"Hey! Spike!" Ed shouted from across the hall. "What're you roaming around for?"

"She woke up," Spike said and as an afterthought, more to himself than Ed, "It went fine. I mean when she saw me."

She blinked several times. "Cool…Ed hasn't found a clue for the stinky man who shot Faye-Faye. I'll find something. I have to. I better go tell Faye-Faye I'm already looking." She pointed to Spike's hands, just were his fingers were still rubbing against each other feeling the sticky juice. "Don't lick your fingers this time," she said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Spike said skeptically.

"When we left that night, when Faye-Faye got hurt. Spike closed the ambulance and Ed looked out. Spike person did this." She put the finger closest to her thumb in her mouth, her lips closed down on her finger but they did not even reaching the first joint. The rest of her fingers where folded in a fist. She looked like she was thinking.

"I don't remember that," Spike told Ed. But he'd realized already that for some reason things were escaping his mind. Ed told him that he'd been the one to rush to Faye, but he couldn't remember that. The night was mostly full of images of Faye's eyes and the scent of her blood.

Ed looked at him closely and snapped him out of his thoughts. "Nope. Spike-person did it," she said. "Well! Bye-Bye. I'm going to Faye-Faye's." She continued down the hall slightly swinging her arms around. Guess she had grown up some.

"Damn you," Spike said under his breath. He hadn't realized so many other things. Had they been a mechanical reaction. Some sort of reflex. No wonder he realized how dirty he had been. For some reason he'd felt the need to look at his hands. Well, it wasn't like he'd never tasted blood before. Blood in his mouth was actually common. He shrugged it off. He clenched his fists and prevented himself from thinking about his dirty hands. He walked into the bathroom and washed his hands thoroughly. He shook the water off of them and seeing no paper towels left, he wiped his hands over his pants.

He walked out of the sterilized rooms and halls of the hospital. He roamed around and eventually found himself in a small park. There were several trees and doves. White doves. Never settling in the ground. Always touching and flying off again. Would things be the same with his memory of Julia? Always looming by, touching, then flying off. And now, as he stared at the birds the only name that echoed in his head was Julia.

Spike stretched his neck and took a seat on a bench. He folded his hands behind his neck and closed his eyes. "Julia," he thought, "why?" He rubbed his face from frustration but nothing much came out of it except that he became even more unsettled. He didn't want to stay there any longer and rose to his feet. The hospital was a better environment. He didn't like it one bit. But it was better than having all these stupid white doves and their stupid fluttering and their stupid voices. All of them linking him to her.

Back in the room, Faye was asleep again. Ed was besides her in the chair, but her head was resting on the bed and she was also sleeping. Spike took a look around and sat down on an empty chair. He tried to get comfortable but he couldn't. He got up again.

"Spike," someone whispered. He looked at Faye and her eyes were open.

"Yeah," Spike answered but she didn't say anything. "I'm gonna look for Jet? I can't let him have all the fun?"

"What are you talking about?" she said with a slight air of frustration.

"Jet and Ed have dug it inside their heads to catch that creep that shot you. I'm just gonna see if I still have my cowboy touch."

"Why? What have you been doing all this time?" she asked.

He paused, "Nothing much really. Anyway, if we catch him, I get two-thirds of your share since you aren't of much use right now?"

"Okay," she said. "Good luck." She closed her eyes again. Spike headed out for the door. What? No arguing? "Hey, Spike."

"Uh?" Spike said and prepared a line of comebacks for whatever argument Faye could bring up.

"Are you coming back?" Faye said. Spiked didn't falter but was a bit surprised.

"It's not like I'm going to get killed."

She laughed nervously, "Just don't disappear again, okay?"

"I can try." He shut the door behind him.

He'd been wrong about Faye. She wasn't as strong as he had thought. But was it wrong that she had a weakness? No. What was wrong was that he'd become her weakness. Just like Julia had been his. But why was it that he couldn't let go of Julia? Could she be frozen somewhere too? Couldn't she come back? He guessed he was just as bad as Faye at this type of things. Faye.

Spike was really a hypocrite. Here he was with Julia swarming in his head. And then one though of Faye suddenly came into his mind. He knew he didn't love Faye. Not as he loved Julia anyway. Not ever. At least, not now. But did that mean that he wanted to love her? But what the hell would be wrong with that? Who gave a damn that he wanted to love someone else? Faye was just fine. She was lucky to have that body of hers. She could drink. She could smoke; well she could when she decided to pick up the habit again. They could get along just fine. Most of the time. And he didn't mind those times when Faye worried about him, because sometimes even she couldn't hide it. Easy come, easy goes. Right? It was okay to want something new. Wasn't it?

He smirked. "Julia, what the hell have you done to me?"

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

I'm graduating this May 30th! Hooray for the Class of 2008. Yay! I'll be out of high school and into college…well. I hope it's not too hard there.

Dedicated to all of you who have stuck with me so far. Sorry for late updates. But my time is in shortage right now. And of course, that means no time to proofread.

_**Thanks for reading! See you soon Cowgirls and Cowboy (I figure at least one guy reads this.)!**_


	13. Imagine That

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. Do the names Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff) sound familiar? Lyrics of "Imagine That" are written by Don Gibson as released by Patsy Cline.

…_On wit__h the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

If she could only wipe that stupid smile off of her face she'd be able to look at him. But right now she couldn't. So it was 3:25 in the morning and she never even realized when he came in. So she'd been happy to see him there again. So he'd actually decided to stay on that uncomfortable chair. So what? It didn't mean anything. The time, that he was there--that she was happy. She knew all that already. But it really never would matter because it never meant anything…it never meant anything to him. And she knew that. And even if it hurt her, there was that stupid smile. Because one way or another she was happy to have him around.

She couldn't believe how much she had liked that hospital just because of that, and how much she regretted having to leave it. But mainly, it was just that out of the hospital, Spike wouldn't fall asleep on the chair next to her bed. And she supposed she'd gotten used to it. But who knew, he could have been forced to do all these things. Or maybe it was his own way of saying sorry. It was Spike after all, and his mind was harder to understand than solving some mathematical equation where everything just seems a blur of numbers and symbols. But, maybe, he was doing it because there was nothing else for him to do.

But now that she wasn't in that small medical bed, but laying on her luxurious one, she couldn't decide whether knowing all of these things actually hurt her more. She just couldn't think about this though. She had a job now and a life that she needed to keep on going. But as she turned in bed and her side ached again, she cursed whoever shot her and promised to shoot him straight between the eyes. Or had it been a her? She really couldn't remember. In any case, she had to beat Spike at finding whoever that creep had been if she'd wanted to keep her money and, more importantly, her dignity. She had to prove that she was more useful than she seemed. She didn't want to feel the need to be rescued. She wasn't a damsel in distress. She wanted to believe she could take care of herself.

However, Spike got well ahead of her in all of this bounty hunting. For the following days, her schedule was packed full of photo shoots and press conferences. Nothing else. Save the 'great' reporters that would want an interview in the middle of the sidewalk as she tried to make her way into another one of her appointments. But she realized that they were not necessarily worried about her health (except a camera man who asked for a kiss), but rather, they were worried that the casino would have to close down. But of course, by now she was used to being treated as a kind of item. Just a body that followed orders. And it disgusted her, but how could she give up the money and the attention? Sooner or later they'd exchange her for someone else, that's what happened to most of the people she met. They lived the moment like a shooting star, and as soon as they had reached the climax, they fell just as fast. They crashed down in less than a split second, with a simple 'you're fired.' So, didn't she have the right to live the moment and make believe that she was an important piece of the casino's gambles? She thought she did, and that's why she fell asleep just fine that night, believing that without her the casino would fall to pieces.

The next morning she had a photo shoot. The building had a photo studio in the highest floor; it was just another way that the casino showed off. That day, she was the one occupying the spotlight with her red undergarments and the black corset, an endorsement for a lingerie store. She had pins in her hair and pearls weighing her neck, ears, and wrists down. The silk, gold and white sheets touched her back as she posed for several hours. The lamp light hit her skin and made her glow. How could she not enjoy all of this luxury? She posed just like they wanted her to. She looked just liked they wanted her to. She smiled just like they wanted her to. She was all that they wanted her to be. She knew she was just being what they needed and not herself. But. She was doing her job. That's what she got paid to do.

By the time the session was finished it was nine at night. Faye was hungry. She didn't bother to put any clothes on; she wrapped herself in a silk robe and went straight down to her room. She opened her door and called out to Ed. She went to check in her room but she wasn't there. Faye didn't like Ed staying out late, but she was old enough to take care of herself. And Faye hoped Ed had learned something from all of the times they had fought playfully. Maybe that had been a way for her to get the basics of self-defense. She sat down on Ed's bed and reached for the picture's next to her bed. There was one of Ein, it was a shame they hadn't allowed him at the Milky Way and he'd had to stay with Jet. There was one of Jet and Spike; that was an old picture. And then there was a picture of both of them together. Faye laughed. It had taken them over forty tries just to get most of their faces in the frame. Faye put the pictures down and undid the front of her robe as she walked out of the room. What should she have for dinner? Maybe just a salad, age might eventually start to catch up with her.

She walked to the kitchen taking off the pearls from her body and pins in her hair, throwing the robe on the arm of the living room couch, taking her slippers off, and stretching her body to the fullest. It felt good to be wearing so little, it took her back, and it kind of made her feel a bit more like herself. She walked into the kitchen heading to the fridge. The door was locked and the large windows had the shutters down. Tonight, it was a night for no one else but her…and Spike? He stared at her from behind the fridge door. He'd been obviously scavenging for food. He held a piece of bread in his mouth but took it out to speak.

"Hey," he said casually. "Took you long enough to show up."

"Spike!" Faye became a bit flustered. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He took his head out of the fridge again, his arms loaded with food. "Ed sent me. Since I'm such a nice guy I decided to go ahead and come." He shut the door of the fridge with his foot as he walked over to the island of the kitchen and put all the food down.

Faye couldn't by any means move. This had not better be one of Ed's little missions. Maybe Faye should have never told her about what she once felt for Spike...Well, that didn't matter. But suddenly, she felt a little blush creeping over her face. Maybe she should have kept the robe on.

"Hey, are you listening?"

"Huh?" Faye looked up and met his eyes. They were incredibly nice eyes.

He exhaled in a bit of frustration. "Ed said that tonight she'd be staying at the Bebop since it's easier for her to do her research there."

"She could have called for that."

"I told her, but who knows how her mind works. Besides. It's not like I had anything better to do. That. And after they had dinner, there wasn't any more food left on the ship. That Jet. They didn't even wait for me to get back before they ate."

"So what makes you think that you can eat here?"

"Are you going to let me starve? You should know that a man as busy as I am needs to eat properly. Besides. It's never any good to eat alone. I bet you haven't even had dinner yet."

"No. I just got back."

"See, you get an eating buddy and I get dinner. Sounds just fine. Doesn't it?"

"It doesn't make any difference I suppose." She crossed her arms in front of her and again realized her exposed skin.

"And will you stop blushing?"

"What?" Faye said quickly.

"It's not like you didn't practically dress like that a few years back."

"Well, I guess if it doesn't bother you…" Faye put her arms down and calmed herself down a little. Maybe it was more torture for him than it was to her. She walked over to the chair in front of Spike and sat down. Still, she couldn't look him straight in the eyes. But she could tell that he didn't look at her either. Spike took his coat off and sat it on a chair.

After a while, it was too quiet and it had become unusually uncomfortable. "I'm getting cold. I'm going to get something on," Faye said absently.

Spike nodded but said nothing.

Faye walked slowly out of the kitchen but then practically dashed to where her black robe was. She put it on quickly as well as her slippers. She walked to her room and then to her bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror and pinned her hair back. She felt very hot. Faye took the robe off again and washed her face and neck. She looked at her bare face in the mirror again. She shouldn't be stressing so much about the situation. She dried her face, unpinned her hair, and put the robe on again. She smirked. Well, it didn't look like Spike had it any easier. But whether she felt something for him or not, she was sure it wouldn't make any difference. There was something about the two of them. If they would just let themselves loose, everything was bound to happen.

By the time she was back in the kitchen, Spike's sleeves were rolled up and there was a large sandwich of some sort in front of his seat. He was looking through the cabinets now.

"What do you think you're doing?" Faye asked feeling a bit more relaxed now.

"Don't you have any whiskey around?" Spike said still searching. "Last time I came I'm sure I saw quite a bit of it just sitting around."

"You're wasting your time for two very good reasons. One, who said I'd give you any. And two, the supply is short right now."

"C'mon, Faye. You're going to tell me that you don't have a single drop of alcohol somewhere in this whole apartment. I know you've changed and all but--"

"Oh, shut up," Faye told him. "I have one more bottle left. If you're so desperate I suppose I could share it with you. Besides, it's been a while since I've had a good drink. Just remember, it's bound to cost you sooner or later."

"That's fine. Right now I just want a drink. I'll find a way to get that cost back."

She found the bottle and poured herself a drink first and then gave the bottle to Spike. She made herself a salad while he ate his dinner in silence. She sat besides him and ate her dinner in silence as well. When they were finished, their chairs turned a bit, just to the point where they were slightly facing each other. Faye's heart was racing, but somehow it felt nice to have Spike around. It was an odd sort of peace. They stared at each other unashamedly for a while. And it was getting quite hot. At some point Spike had undone one more button from his shirt.

There were so many things running through Faye's mind. But she wasn't stupid. She knew that things were going in a certain direction and sooner or later she'd be unable to stop it. If one more button from his shirt came undone, she was sure that the robe around her would be off in seconds, whether by his or her hands. But it wasn't as if either of them had planned anything. She looked at his eyes and felt a shiver down her back and her heart suddenly stopped. What if she let it happen? And what if he disappeared again? She was sure that if she let herself give in now she'd regret it with much more intensity later. She picked up her glass and walked away, her legs slightly shaking.

"When you leave lock the door behind you," Faye said. He looked back at her but didn't say anything. His gaze seemed to force all of Faye's blood out of her body and she felt a bit light-headed. She tore her eyes away from his. She quickly walked to her room and locked the door; her hands were trembling, just a little. She pressed her back against the door and slid down to the ground where she remained seated. She crossed her arms above her knees and rested her head, her glass still in her hand. Faye glanced at the clock; it was already one in the morning. She let her head fall on her arms again. She heard her name behind the door and her heart stopped again.

"Yeah," she whispered after clearing her throat.

"You know, all this time there's this one thing I've been wanting to know." He paused for what seemed like ages. "I know you like having money and all, but I never thought you'd actually go this far."

"What are you talking about?"

"You always used to do whatever it was that you wanted. And now. You're kind of like a puppet."

"I know that."

"Oh, so you're a bit smarter than you appear to be."

"There are just some things about each other that we'll never understand."

"You say that now. But that one day a few years ago, I think we crossed that line."

"So you want to talk about it or something?"

"Not necessarily."

"I do."

"I still have half a glass of whiskey left. I guess it wouldn't hurt," he said. Faye heard his body slide down on the other side of the door. That was a good thing; she wasn't going to open that door.

"Half a glass goes by fast."

"Then I guess you better hurry up," he said.

Faye began unsure of what she was actually doing. "I took the job because it didn't only give me money. I got a lot of people that had to like me one way or another. Nothing feels real, but I have to try and make it real. I know that it's not any better than believing it's all a dream, but at least I know what fake reality I'm putting myself in. You might have had it hard all this time that you were gone, but it was all a dream right? So it really doesn't matter. It's not like that for me. What I'm living is all there is to it. That's why I have to make the best of it."

"But you don't have to do any of this anymore."

"Why? At least I know that this will end sooner or later. I know what I've gotten myself into. I know my time is limited, but back then, the chance didn't walk away when I needed it the most."

"The whole bebop is back." He hesitated. "I--"

"Spike," she interrupted him.

"You don't need all of this anymore…I better get going. Besides, this is no way to talk and I'm out of whiskey."

She heard him rise to his feet, followed by his steps. After several minutes had passed, she opened her door quietly and walked out in the hall. Faye walked to the front door and gripped the handle to take a look out. It was warm. She stared at her hand. She shouldn't open the door. He was still too close.

She walked to the kitchen to put her glass in the sink. His coat was still there. Had he left? She called his name over and over again as she walked through the entire apartment. But he was obviously gone. She picked the coat up and grabbed a tight hold of it. She walked to her room again and let herself fall heavily on the bed.

"_Imagine me still lovin' you  
After all you've put me thru  
Well, I can't help it, I just do  
Imagine that, and that's not the half,"_She closed her eyes with her arms still wrapped tightly around his coat and continued to whisper a song she'd read a few times before. She couldn't remember the next lyrics. She hummed the verse until she recalled the next part._  
_

"_'Cause you know you've always had my foolish heart  
Right in the palm of your hand,"  
_

She pulled the sheets from under her and covered herself with them.

"_So, for what it's worth to you  
It just don't matter what you might do  
'Cause I'm still waitin' and lovin' you  
Imagine that, ain't that a laugh."_

She ended the verse and laughed at herself. She buried her face in his coat and imagined that it was really him. "You don't need all of this anymore," she heard his voice echo in her head. Maybe he was right. But she could only think of the million of possibilities, of all the 'what if's.' But in the end, she realized, not only, how afraid of her own emotions she was, but also of his.

She could imagine him there for a while and then gone again. She'd be left just like she was right now. In an apartment with much more room than she needed. A bed with plenty of room. Holding the coat that smelled just like him. Her skin burning. Feeling so terribly alone.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

Sorry for the very late update and not having time to proofread.

As I wrote this, it occurred to me, what's Spike's scent? I figured it would be something like Old Spice or something. What do you think?

Also, please keep reviewing. Hopefully with summer I'll have a bit more time to write. Also, I finally got my deviantart page a little bit set up. Most of the drawings I posted are pretty old though. But by now, Faye has already made her way into the gallery. If you'd like to check it out, there is a link to it on my profile.

_**Thank you very much for reading! See you soon Cowboys!!**_


	14. Lonely

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. Do the names Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff) sound familiar?

Update, hooray!…_On wit__h the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

He wanted to feel a little guilty. Even just a little. He knew he hadn't physically done anything; rather it was a sort of metal betrayal. But that had been enough in the past. Is should have been enough tonight. But it hadn't been. And it wasn't that it was a bad thing, not feeling guilty. Actually, it felt kind of nice. Remembering. Faye's nude complexion becoming rosy. Her hair falling gently across her neck. Her robe slowly sliding off of her shoulders. Her bare lips softly touching the glass. His collar growing hot. Not feeling any regret. It was nice.

But this of all nights was the night he'd left Julia for the first time. Shouldn't he remember her even now that she was gone? If anything just for one night, shouldn't he be able to think about Julia without Faye's green eyes appearing in his mind? He wanted to respect his past relationship. But he didn't feel any guilt for tonight. Was that okay?

Spike took his time walking to the bebop. When he came in, everything was quiet. He heard a mumble and found Ed gently snoring as she slept on the yellow couch. Ein lay next to her and one of her hands was still on the computer's keyboard. He walked into his room and realized he'd forgotten his coat as he began to undress. He cursed his carelessness, but figured he couldn't do anything at the moment. He stretched. Guessed he'd have to go back later. He lay down and thought about his night for a while. Maybe instead of regretting not feeling guilty, he regretted not actually having done anything…

When he woke up, very late in the afternoon, Ed was still busy on the computer. Jet ordered her to take a break, and she did, one hour afterwards. Spike saw her eating a snack in the kitchen and decided to join her. Jet walked in.

"How much can you two eat?" He asked somewhat frustrated. "I just went to the store this morning and ¼ of the food I bought is gone."

"Ed needs brain food," she smiled widely and added as an afterthought, "so does Ein."

"What's your excuse?" Jet halfway mumbled to Spike. "A fast metabolism."

"If you know, why do you ask," Spike responded a bit aloof.

"I swear it's like I'm feeding a bottomless pit," Jet finally said walking towards his trees. Ed and Spike followed him with their gaze until he finally disappeared.

"Hey, Ed," Spike said, "what have you found out?"

"Well," she said, "let's see." She walked to the computer and Spike followed her. "Ed found. Ed found. Ed found--nothing." She exhaled heavily, obviously feeling desperate. "Nothing!" she repeated collapsing into the couch. "Ed Wong Hau Pepelu Tivruskky IV will find them!" she said pointing somewhere above her head. She looked completely defeated for the time being.

"You'll get them," Spike said lighting up a cigarette.

His words seemed to give Ed a surge of energy that ran through her entire body. She jumped up again and saluted, "Aye captain!" She crossed her legs under the coffee table and busied herself again. Spike stepped outside to finish his cigarette. He went for a short walk and came back to the bebop. The bounties had gotten relatively slow lately and there wasn't much for him to do. After dinner, Spike showered and took a nap on the yellow couch. When he woke up, he felt like having another walk. He told Jet as he was making his way out of the ship. Jet had gotten picky about knowing where people where going.

"Wait let me give you something. Here," Jet said tossing something to Spike.

He caught it. It was his coat. Spike looked at Jet.

"Faye dropped it off this morning. You and Ed were still sleeping. You going anywhere in particular?"

"Not really."

"Spike, tell Faye-Faye to visit!" Ed shouted as she walked into the hallway.

"She came this morning," Spike said absently.

"Yes, but Ed wasn't awake."

"Why don't you call her?" Spike had a feeling that Faye didn't quite want to see him.

"Because Ed wants Faye-Faye to have this." She handed Spike a brown cardboard box that easily fit in his pocket. "Okay. Ed's going to work again!" She turned and walked back to where she'd come from.

Spike put his coat on. It'd been washed. It felt extremely unfamiliar. But Spike tried not to think about that too much. He started walking straight to Faye's apartment. He figured that sooner or later he'd be bound to end up there anyway. When he got there, he asked the front desk for the spare key just in case that Faye wasn't there again. The young girl gave it to him quickly. It was strange that security was very low. He thanked her and made his way to Faye's. He knocked and when nobody answered, he let himself in. It was empty just like when he'd arrived the night before. He walked into the living room. On the coffee table there was a glass and a new bottle of whiskey. Besides them was a note that read: "I'm away for a while. This is the only bottle here. They gave it to me this afternoon from what they were able to salvage after the warehouse exploded. I won't be in need of it. Keep it company."

Spike opened the bottle up and filled the glass. He called Jet and told him that Faye was gone and about the note.

"She didn't say anything this morning." Jet said. "In any case, I'll tell Ed to look at that warehouse. And Spike."

"Yeah?"

"Take a look around. See if you can find anything else."

"Well, for one thing the security here is practically non existent."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's very little security of any sort."

"Alright. I'll tell Ed."

Jet hung up and Spike started looking through the apartment. There wasn't much that was too out of the ordinary. Not for someone like Faye. Spike walked into her room, the last place he had to check. However, it was getting too late. He was too tired. And probably had too much alcohol in his system. Since Faye was not using her bed, he figured that she wouldn't mind if he slept there for the night. He didn't bother calling Jet and telling him his whereabouts. He took his shoes off and placed his shirt and jacket over the chair of Faye's vanity desk. Above the vanity there were many single roses, all dried up and each with a note. He reached for one and read it. "Can we meet again?" He reached for another one. "I hope a dozen is enough to show how much I care for you." He took another one. "Because last time it was a dozen, this time I give you twenty-four more." Spike looked for someone's name on the cards but didn't find anything. He felt strange reading the cards. But in any case, he'd tell Jet and Ed in the morning about the roses. Maybe Ed knew something about them. How many men sent roses to Faye?

Spike tore his gaze away from all the roses and notes. He lay down on the bed. It was extremely comfortable compared to those in the bebop. He buried his face on the pillow and her scent was completely intoxicating. She felt so close, but no matter how many times he checked, she was never there. Spike turned in bed and stared at the roses again until he slowly began drifting to sleep. Spike couldn't help but wonder, why would Faye like a bed so large, if in it, if felt so incredibly lonely.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

I got unexpected visits and it's getting pretty hard to write on the computer just because we have to be good hosts and all, so I can't really seclude myself like I used to do in order to write. I found an old notebook though, and I wrote everything first and then I'm typing it. That's the only way I found that I could update. I hope you enjoy this one. And I promise, I'm getting somewhere.

_**Thank you very much for reading! See you soon Cowboys!!**_


	15. Cold Chase

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. Do the names Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff) sound familiar?

Let's see…nope, nothing yet.

_On wit__h the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

When she woke up, her eyes refused to open. Or rather, she'd willed herself to keep her eyes closed as long as she was with him. She was quiet; listening to his heavy breathing as he lay besides her. And suddenly her breathing became unsatisfying. And even his arms wrapped around her were cold. Faye felt like she was sleeping with someone who was dieing. Or rather who was dead. She didn't like it. Not one bit. Not now that she was sober again.

She looked at his face. His closed eyes and black hair. His skin and his lips. Everything about him had seemed so much better when she was drunk. Maybe all she needed to solve her problem was to drink again. She'd see things differently then. Usually better. Her skin began to itch in the kind of way when not even scratching would help. Just being under the same blankets as this man made her feel sick. She carefully tore his arms away from her body. He mumbled something as she got up. Turned in bed. Fell asleep again. She dressed quickly and left the room. Her hand above her shaking lips. Trying to keep the acid from burning her stomach and mouth. Trying to keep her composure.

As soon as she made it back to her hotel room, whatever control she had was gone and her body was rejecting every drop of alcohol she'd had the night before. It wasn't like her at all. But she somehow felt incredibly guilty about everything. When she felt that her stomach had finally stopped turning, she stepped into the shower and cleaned herself for over an hour. By the time she got out, she felt more like herself again. She walked over to her bed and lay down. The towel around her head became loose so she pulled it off and threw it on one of the bed's corners and fell asleep quickly.

Her communicator began to ring. She instinctively dug it out of the drawer in her side stand and answered. Her voice was hoarse. Her eyes snapped opened when she heard Spike's voice.

"Don't hang up," he said morosely. "It was hard enough to get you to answer. I figured that if I'd keep trying sooner or later you'd pick up."

"Shut up. If I had realized it was you I wouldn't have answered," Faye said. She stretched her neck. Maybe it was better if she ended the transmission.

"Don't hang up."

"What do you want?" she said annoyed. "I can't be bothered right now."

"Do you know how much you've made Ed worry?...Listen, we need to know where you are."

"I can't tell you," she said quickly.

She was about to end the call when he said, "Don't hang up." She let herself fall heavily on the bed. "We need to know where you are and ask you some questions. Ed's been finding stuff like crazy but it doesn't make sense yet."

"I already said. I can't tell you." She heard his voice asking her not to hang up again but she did anyway. She needed to not hear him for a while. She needed some time. It wasn't like she was asking for much. She just needed to clear a few things up in her head. She wanted to just be away from him for a while. Which had become impossible really. Because, even after last night, he'd been the only one she'd been able to think about. "Stupid Spike."

She tried to sleep again but all she could do was stare at her communicator. And now, even if she'd hung up, she really wanted him to call again. She could easily dial and call him. But that wouldn't do. She wanted him to be the one to call. No one else. Someone knocked at her door. The maid came in and pretended to clean. There was little she could do, Faye had just arrived. In the afternoon there was nothing much happening and the rest of the week became just as uneventful. Her boss 'asked' her to go visit with a couple of other important business associates. But this time she was sure not to drink too much, a shame since they had a very fine stock.

She had one more week to spend away and she had solved nothing. For a while, she made believe that with a bit of time everything would somehow fall perfectly in place. However, as her time began running out, she began realizing that no matter how many times she left, she'd always have to go back and face him. Well, maybe, after all, she didn't want him to be there. Because. It made sense. With him gone. Then. There was no need. To feel. To feel like this. Right? She regretted her words immediately. She was fine with him there.

She looked at the schedule for the rest of the week. Well, she didn't have much time to dwell on anything at the time. She sat down on her vanity and took out her makeup and hair things. Faye arranged her hair. She put the base on. Shadowed her eyes. Eyeliner. Fixed her lashes. Mascara. Blush. Red lipstick. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. Yes, she was pretty. She let all her make-up lay across the vanity and picked out the dress for tonight. Should it be red, or white, or black? Today it was…black. She put on her heels and picked up her purse, left the communicator behind, again hidden in her side stand. The car was already waiting for her when she was in the reception. She took her seat and waited patiently as she was driven to the event. Tonight, her only importance would be her physical presence and her red-lipped smile.

She met the dead man there again. She met his blue eyes. Smiled. Left him to enjoy his drink with his company. Rolled her eyes. She sat down at her place and didn't say much. Eventually someone asked her out to dance. And another one. And who knows how many more. She wasn't keeping count of men anyway. She was staring at the large, rounded clock placed between a few columns. She let her mind wander off for a while. Sooner or later, her eyes managed to find the clock again. And just focused on the hands. How incredibly slow they moved. But no matter how slow or fast time was moving, it will always managed to pass. The party was over. She was sober. Ready to go to _her_ hotel room. She said bye to several people and kept a smile on her face until she went into the car. She closed her eyes and listened to the radio and the wind hitting the windows. At some point she fell asleep.

She woke up. There was no music. She was still inside the car. The chauffeur was out of the vehicle messing with the car's circuitry. She opened her door and walked out. They were on a deserted street. The lamps at the corners of each street were glowing dimly.

"What's happened?" She asked walking slowly to see the chauffeur at work.

"There was a problem with the vehicle's computer. It just broke down. It'll only take about 15 minutes so I didn't bother to wake you up. If you'd like I'll call a cab to pick you up?"

Faye looked around at the streets. The wind was nice and cool. It was a perfect time for a walk. "Did you pick up my clothes?"

"Yes meam. They're in the back."

"Could you get them for me?" She asked.

"Yes, of course." He opened the trunk of the car. "Well, they only had the suit and these two dresses ready when I dropped by."

"That's fine. Hand me the suit," she said. She took it from his hands and stepped back inside the car. Faye took off the black dress and changed into the suit. She stepped out and the chauffeur took his eyes away from the car's system to see who was near. He hadn't been expecting Faye to change. "I'll get back to the hotel later, okay?" She waved back at him. He stared at her and the vehicle.

"No! Miss, just give me a few more minutes and I'll be done."

"Don't worry about it," she shouted back. "I want to have a walk!" She waved back again and dashed around a corner. She could hear the chauffeur's steps coming quickly behind her. She hid on a corner and let him run through. Poor kid. But she'd told him not to worry. She headed back in the opposite direction and made it towards the main streets of the city. Wow, was it ever alive. She walked into stores and casinos and spent her money. She figured it was getting a bit too late and that someone would eventually come looking for her again, so she decided to make one last stop. Tonight she felt like going out to an old-torn down bar and having a drink. Kind of like she used to do.

She walked in the streets alone and tried to soak up as much freedom as possible. From the mixture of steps, there were some that sounded extremely close to her. She stopped. They stopped. She walked. They walked. Over and over on the pavement of the sidewalks. She turned around, but there was nothing suspicious. She continued walking. And there they were again. Had they come for her already? She dashed away from the main streets and she could hear the steps following behind her. The steps were clumsy and uneven. Very unsteady. She continued to make her way deeper and deeper into the city making as many turns as possible. For a while the steps seemed to have disappeared. Slowly, she heard them closer to her. She saw the silhouette of the figure standing under the streetlight. A heavy trench coat that almost reached the ground. Long hair blowing in the cool breeze. She stood frozen for a while, trying to figure out what was going on. The figure pulled out its hands from its pockets. A small gun. Faye saw the person taking aim. As its arm rose, Faye turned around and continued running. There was a corner. Faye took it. The gun's blast echoed in the empty streets. Faye searched herself. She needed her gun, but it was back at her apartment. The communicator. It was at the hotel.

She got up again. The steps had momentarily stopped. She slowly peered around the corner trying to locate the person. The figure was still under the streetlamp. The gun still pointed at the now empty street. Faye started running again. Her heels making a track of her presence. The other steps followed again. A man passed Faye. She looked back quickly and continued running. She caught the sight of the silhouette again. There were a few more shots. Faye fell to the ground. Her arm and thigh stinging. She looked at herself, they were only scratches. She got up again and continued running. There were more people on the streets now. Faye ran into an alley where people could be heard talking. An older man was being threatened by two younger ones. Great. She'd walked into a high-crime zone. She ran a few steps past them. Something caught her eye. She stopped.

"Hey boys," she said. They turned around to face her, one holding the older man by the neck. Quick. Faye dropped to the ground. Extended her leg. Tripped the first one. She jumped. Kicked him again as he was falling. He fell heavily onto the cold concrete. Faye lounged to the other one, the bottom part of her palm making contact with the man's chin. The older man stumbled forward and fell to the ground. "Get up and run!" Faye shouted as she continued attacking. The second man staggered backwards. Regained balance.

"You stupid bitch!" He shouted and threw a punch at her. She ducked. Hit his stomach. He swayed again. "WHY YOU!" he put all his strength into another. She tried to evade it. It barely caught her cheek. The man's body continued to progress with the power of his hit. Quick. Faye used it to her favor. Guess watching Spike fight had taught her one or two things.

She heard the steps again. They were extremely close. Faye saw the first one struggling to get up. She kicked him down again. She searched the second man and just as she had expected, he carried a gun. The glint had been very vague but she was sure it had been there. She searched the other one. A knife. She got up and ran. The steps right behind her. But an alley was far too dark. She wanted to see her attacker's face. She finally made it to some empty streets. She saw the figure step into the street. Gun ready. Faye started at it for a second. Her gun ready too. Faye tried to see the face, but it was impossible, it's long hair was draped heavily over it. The figure shot. Faye dodged it easily. Ready to shoot. A group of kids poured into the street. It delayed her reaction and she wasted one bullet.

Damn it. She couldn't do this here. She ran away from the street. She checked how many bullets she had left. Two! Only two! Who would carry a gun with three shots! She stopped, she couldn't avoid anything anymore. She'd try the two bullets. The figure came closer and closer. It shot but missed again. Faye heard music. She looked behind quickly. There was a bar. Well, maybe she could get a drink after all. She hurried over to it. The steps behind her stopped. She checked what had happened. The figure was on the ground. How was that possible? Faye was sure she'd missed. She didn't stand there to figure it out. She went right for the bar's door and walked in. A few people looked up. She walked over towards the counter. Would she be attacked here? It was full of people. Even the lowest of criminals knew not to attack in crowded places. Places full of people who could testify against their crimes. Either way, she was ready.

She ordered a drink and finished it slowly. She kept track of time. Fifteen minutes had passed. The door of the bar opened. Faye readied her finger on the trigger. The door swung open and the figure stepped in. A few people looked. Faye put her gun out, ready to fire. "Not in my bar!" the bartender said, but Faye ignored him. The person dropped to the ground. He pulled his hands out and covered his face. Faye had almost shot. But, those hands. They weren't a man's hands. Actually, they were nicely manicured nails. A woman? The figure rose slowly and gave one step forward towards the light and dropped her hands.

"Do you recognize me!" the woman shouted at Faye. The occupants of the bar looked at them.

Faye stared at her in disbelief. She had long blond hair and exactly the same height. At glance, she could have sworn. She could have said it was Julia. But. Something wasn't right. Her face didn't quite match. Her mouth was too small and her eyes were too big. And her aim had been terrible too. It wasn't. No. She wasn't Julia.

"No," Faye said dryly. She looked at her again. The woman was crying. But it was anger. Faye could tell.

"How about him!" She took a picture from her pocket and tossed it on the ground. It fell face down.

"What makes you think I'll pick it up?" Faye said.

"I won't shoot."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine," the woman said bitterly. She pointed at someone behind Faye. "You there. I'll pay all of your drinks if you pick it up."

Faye heard the legs of a chair scraping against the floor. She was tempted to look. What if that person ended up attacking her from the back? By now the music had stopped playing. She could hear the people around her breathing. The steps coming closer from behind her. A sigh. A swift motion and the picture was off of the floor.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

A bit late. Well, yeah….Sorry for misspellings and typos. Hope is not too much of a cliffhanger there.

_**Thank you very much for reading! See you soon Cowboys!!**_


	16. Dissatisfied

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. Do the names Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff) sound familiar?

I've moved into the Texas Tech University campus, yes I'm now officially a college student…And I'm trying to get used to campus life. I don't have a personal computer, but maybe I'll be getting one soon. Actually, I don't have a scanner either and that's affecting my DeviantArt account. I feel terrible because FF and DA are my favorite sites and I can't participate in them like I'm used to….Well. I guess that's enough.

_On wit__h the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

He took the picture from the ground and placed it right in front of her face. Faye was startled and gave a step back. She stared at him with a face that clearly shouted. "What the hell are you doing!" He ignored her for a while and took a look at the picture. There were two people, a man and a woman. They were at some sort of party it seemed like. Faye shot glances at him and at the woman. Her gun was still out. Spike looked at the picture and then at the woman. She was the same person as in the picture, except with brown hair at the time. The man besides her: blue eyes and black hair. He looked back at the woman. Damn, did she ever look like Julia. But it wasn't her. He could pick out all the little differences within a fraction of a second.

Faye snatched the picture away from his hands. She quickly looked at it and gave it back to him. Spike looked at it again. The difference blonde hair could make.

"He's my fiancé," the woman said bitterly. "He's been for two years."

"Really," Faye said amused. "He didn't ever mention you."

The indifference in her voice angered the blonde. Spike could see the vein in her neck throbbing. What mess had Faye gotten herself into this time? He felt awkward holding the picture. Standing between two women willing to tear each other's throats open. He could have easily just let the picture fall to the ground again and gone back to his seat. But something kept him standing there in the middle. He looked at Faye. She had that maliciously cold smile on her face. The other woman's patience was running short.

"You disgusting bitch," the woman said through gritted teeth.

"Hey, it's not my problem if he isn't loyal to you," Faye remarked coolly. "Besides…it's not like he was any good."

Spike stifled a laugh. Faye was definitely crazy. He saw the woman's harsh glance directed at him. "Here you go," he said as he handed her the picture. She grabbed it and threw it on the ground again. "I hope you know, I'm not picking that up," Spike said casually.

"Shut up!" she responded agitated. Spike shrugged his shoulders and took a look at Faye. He wondered what she was going to do know. He stepped a bit closer to her and smirked just so she could see him. She rolled her eyes.

"That's enough!" The woman shouted angrily.

"Shouty," Faye mumbled.

The woman's eyes grew. Her hatred suppressed within them. "You. I'm going to kill you!" Spike turned to see the woman pointing at Faye. But Faye had her gun ready, obviously willing to fight back. Spike stood by, just in case. The woman put her hand back into the trench coat. She was moving very slowly. His eyes followed her movements. He hoped Faye wouldn't act too rashly. With so many people around, it would be terrible for her to kill someone. "I'll pay you," she said quickly looking at him and then around the bar. "I'll pay big for whoever kills her!" She took out her hand, completely loaded with jewels.

Spike could see different people stirring. There were several guns being readied. Knives being flipped open. Others grabbed whatever was at hand. He saw Faye examining her surroundings. Her lips formed some unreadable words. An earring fell from the woman's hand. Faye's attention was broken for a second. A big guy charged towards her his hand tightly gripping a knife. Spike saw Faye trying to dodge it a bit too late. He kicked the guy's hand before he had done anything. The knife flew out and broke a bottle. Faye stared at him in disbelief. What? Did she expect him to just stand around and watch her being attacked by some drunken man? Spike pulled out his gun and stood behind Faye's back. She stepped closer to him and slowly pressed her back against his.

"Get out of the way!" someone yelled.

"Sorry," Spike responded. "I can't quite let you kill her. Isn't that right Faye?"

"Yeah," she said quietly. At hearing her so unconfident, he elbowed her just hard enough to get her mind thinking. She didn't say anything. But he could feel that her posture had improved, she was ready to counterattack. That was more like it. That's the Faye he liked.

It'd been a while since they'd fought together. He wondered if they would be sufficiently effective. He realized that it would be terrible if they'd try to fight against everyone there. Hopefully, he could pull something off. He looked around for a second. Well, it was possible. The entrance was near enough.

Someone threw a knife but Spike dodged it easily. Faye pulled at his coat. He guessed it was up to him to decide what to do. He didn't try anything fancy. He just needed to get Faye out of there alive. He shot at the main lamp. The men in the bar got distracted for a second. He grabbed Faye's hand. Pushed the woman away from the entrance. Bullets flew everywhere around him. He saw the blonde woman's wretched smile as she fell to the ground. Dashed out. Pulled Faye close behind him. The people began pouring out of the bar. Some ran after them ready to try and strike. The bullets were following close by.

Faye was being extremely quiet. Maybe she'd been wounded. He gripped Faye's hand tightly. "Hey, you okay?" he said sounding a bit more worried than he'd wanted to.

"Yeah," she said a bit surprised. She pointed the gun behind her and shot someone. The crowd became smaller as many stayed behind after seeing her accuracy. She tripped a little but caught up to him again.

Spike looked back at her for a second. She _looked_ fine. But behind her there were still a few people following. She fired her gun again, caught another one. This time, only a handful were left. Guessed some jewels were worth chasing someone down. He kept a hold of Faye's hand. He didn't want her to fall behind. He noticed her struggling to keep up with him. Dashing around corners. Evading more bullets. He couldn't keep making her run. The big man in particular, was trying hard to keep up. He must have gotten angry at Spike for kicking his hand. But this time, Spike noticed that he didn't have a knife. He had a gun and he wasn't very far behind. He fired. Faye squeezed Spike's hand tightly and struggled even more to keep up.

"I can't keep running," she said breathing heavily. "The bullet. Ankle. And these heels."

"Just try and keep up for a little longer," he said. He fired his gun and caught the man on the shoulder. Spike pulled Faye closer to him and placed one of her arms behind his neck. The wind blew her hair closer to him and he could smell her scent, just like the bed in her apartment. She looked up at him quickly. He could tell she was in pain, but her eyes were not willing to show any weakness. She continued running. Spike still felt her stumbling. He took her waist and helped her a bit more. Her body was hot to the touch and her face was blushed. He tried to focus on getting away from the area.

He'd already been around town several times. In about two more blocks there was a street were taxis lined up waiting for people who needed transport. Another bullet. He needed to keep moving. Someone shouted as he fired at the crowd. Faye was clutching his shoulder tightly, but she was able to maintain his pace.

The change of setting was clear. The taxis were parked under a well lit avenue. Spike ran to the closest. He could hear the people behind them. The man inside the taxi was reading a magazine. Spike knocked at the window to get his attention.

"Where to?" the taxi driver said as Spike and Faye made their way into the backseat.

"Downtown," Spike said. Another bullet.

"Quickly," Faye said and added as an afterthought. "Please."

"Sure thing," the driver said becoming aware of the situation. He drove quickly and behind him a trail of bullets followed. "Goodness," he said putting a piece of bubblegum inside his mouth. "What mess have you two gotten into?"

"The usual thing," Faye said checking her ankle. Spike's gaze roamed and finally found itself focusing on the ankle too. The bullet had made only a scratch, but Faye's ankle was clearly swollen.

"Lemme guess," the driver said. "D'you steal somethin'?"

"No," she said rubbing her ankle.

"Good, 'cause if you had, I'd kicked you out…" He made several turns and sped up a little. The number of vehicles and people that wandered the streets kept growing.

The streets were well lit and there were plenty of people. Spike looked around. They could find a place to hide. "Here will be fine."

"All right," the driver said pulling over.

"Take double for the quick get away," Faye said handing the man a card.

"Thank you miss." He finished the transaction and handed the card back. He looked at Spike. "Don't get yourself into so much trouble."

Spike smirked. He helped Faye out of the car and they sat down on a nearby bench. Faye looked at her ankle again. Spike stared at her as she massaged it. Her skin was still pink and she looked exhausted. Her eyes were vivid, but the energy that was usually behind them was missing.

"You need to get ice on that," Spike said finally deciding to look away from her.

"Don't you think I know," Faye said a bit angered and still breathing heavily.

"Well, we can't just sit here. We should find a place to stay for a while."

"I can't keep running. My ankle is about to kill me. And I thought I liked these shoes…" Faye said. Spike looked at them, they were Faye enough. Tall, slender heel. Provocative. "Let's just find a hotel or something and rest for a while," she concluded.

Spike stood up and placed his hand out ready to be of assistance. She took it but released it as soon as she was standing and started walking ahead of him. He walked unhurriedly behind her, but still caught up with her relatively quickly. She was walking quite slowly to begin with.

She stopped in front of a decent looking motel and without even asking him anything, she walked to the front desk and asked for a room. Faye took the key and Spike followed behind her with his hands in his pockets. She opened the door and immediately walked to the bed and sat down. She took her heels off and then turned to look at Spike. He leaned on the frame of the door, unsure of whether to step in or just leave.

"Can you go get something to eat?" she asked him.

"I guess," he answered apathetically. He stepped out of the door and closed it behind him. Well, he was hungry now that he thought about it. And he was tired too. It was a shame there wasn't any room service, he didn't feel like taking a walk. He went into a convenience store and bought two boxed lunches and two drinks. He was about to leave but decided to go back. He bought some painkillers and a small bag of ice.

He walked back to the motel quickly. He knocked on the door but it took Faye a few seconds to open. She tried to take the bags from him, but he just walked past her and placed them down on a small table near the window of the room. Faye had closed the shutters.

"Sit down," he said. She walked unsteadily to the bed and took a seat. He walked to the bathroom and picked up two towels. He sat the larger one down on the bed and motioned her to set her foot over it. Then, he placed the other towel over her ankle and placed the ice over it. As he did all this, she stared at him with such beautiful intensity that Spike barely tried to look at her.

He stood up and handed her the boxed meal. She took it from his hands and said, almost to herself, "You shouldn't be so nice to me."

"I'm naturally a nice type of guy," he responded.

"Idiot."

Spike shrugged his shoulders and let the remark slip as he began eating his meal. Besides, he really didn't know why he was helping her; he just knew that it felt right. They were quiet after that. Spike finished his meal first and was watching television. Faye finally placed the empty box on the side stand. Spike glanced at her for a second then turned back to watch the news. Or try to anyway. Faye was taking the pins off of her hair. The strands slowly falling and framing her face. She'd washed her face while he was out too. The legs of her pants were rolled up over her knees. Her coat was still on, but only half of the buttons were done. He could tell she wasn't wearing an undershirt. He looked at her face again as Faye sat the last of her pins down.

"You've kept your hair the same length," He stated.

"No..." she yawned, "I let it grow out after I met a girl who had cancer. I think I did it because she reminded me of Ed. And the similarity was actually pretty scary. She had to take chemo, and even if she could live, because of the chemicals her hair wouldn't grow back. It was a little after we lost track of you. I really didn't feel like doing anything, so I figured that if anything I could grow my hair and then give it to the girl. After it was long enough, I cut it again. I hated having it long."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Faye said. "I might have a picture somewhere."

"Looks like you've been busy." Spike said, he was feeling sleepy, and the atmosphere was very pleasant.

"Probably the worst years of my life," she said quietly. "And the girl moved so I don't know what happened to her. I don't even know if she's still alive. But I guess I'm kind on used to that."

He got up from the bed, the sleep shaken off of him, and picked up the ice bag away from her ankle. "It looks better," he commented as he walked over to the bathroom to pour out the cold water from the melted ice. He closed it and placed it over her ankle again.

"I guess I lost practice running with heels," she said.

"Here," Spike said handing her the bottle of painkillers. He sat besides her and watched her open up the bottle. He pulled out a cigarette.

She stared at him. "Don't smoke in front of me."

"Eh?" Spike said with the cigarette between his lips already lit.

"Just. Don't. Okay?" She said and tried to look away from him. She threw the pills inside her mouth and took a drink. Spike watched her take the medication but made no effort to put out his cigarette. He took the bottle from her and sat it down on the side stand. A puff of smoke escaped his lips.

He looked at Faye. Her sight seemed to pierce right through him. His pulse felt inexistent. She got very close to him. Spike moved a bit away from her. She leaned closer. He could see the individual eyelashes around her eyes. Before he knew it, his back was against the head of the bed, his pulse had accelerated, and Faye was still getting closer to him. The cigarette hung loosely on his lips. She was so close. He felt her hand barely touching his cheek and gently gliding across his face until the heat of her fingertips touched his lips. She took the cigarette away from him. Spike could feel her breath on his skin. Remaining at the same distance, she took a drag and harshly blew out the smoke on his face. She'd only been tempting him. The boards of the bead squeaked as she quickly got up. Spike caught her wrist. She looked at him halfway pleased and halfway worried.

She took another drag. "Don't smoke in front of someone who's in an extreme need of nicotine but is trying not to smoke." She was going to take another drag but Spike pulled her closer to him. Their faces were as close as they had been a few seconds before.

He reached for her other hand, the one holding the cigarette, grabbed it and brought it close to him. With her hand still holding on to the cigarette he took a drag. "Don't take someone's last smoke away from them." She tried to put some distance in between them, but Spike was not going to let her have all the fun. He leaned closer to her. She struggled trying to get his hold off of her wrist and hand. Spike took another drag. He opened her hand and took the cigarette out. He smoked it one more time and sat it to the side on Faye's empty lunch box. He took her hand again and moved closer to her. He stood up as Faye tried to pull away again. He put one of his knees against the mattress and pushed her onto the bed. He placed her hands on each of her sides, still holding on to them as she lay flat on the bed.

"You wouldn't dare," Faye said. But to Spike, it had become a challenge now, not just a joke. He smirked at her and she tried to push him away, now much more determined than before.

He leaned close to her and when their faces were near enough, she stopped struggling. Her eyes were closed and seeing this, he unwillingly loosened his grip on her hands. He felt his pulse increasing and his eyes unconsciously closed. He could hear the blood rushing through his veins. He'd never hesitated so much just to kiss a woman. Eventually, their lips barely met and they stayed at that distance for a few seconds. Faye parted her lips. Spike felt that with that, he had won the challenge. But, something kept him there and he kissed her again. And he didn't stop. His hands moved over her palms and she intertwined her fingers with his. Their breathing became heavy. Spike felt hot. Faye took her hands away from his and took his coat off. He undid one of her buttons. Simultaneously, she stopped kissing him and Spike started to slowly rise away from her. It had been as if they both knew they were about to cross a limit.

They sat beside each other, near enough to where their bodies were still touching. Her skin was blushed and the only sound came from their heavy breath. Even without his coat, Spike felt extremely hot. Faye tried to fix her hair a little. Spike looked at his cigarette, but it was all gone. They avoided their glances, but soon their eyes locked. Faye licked her lips. Spike undid one of his shirt buttons. His chest was pounding.

"I…" Faye began. "Um. I'm tired..." Spike was caught off guard. He had expected something else. Maybe something like a harsh remark. But even he didn't know what to say and surprised himself even more when he merely nodded to her.

That something inside him, the same thing that made him want to see her, felt disappointed. But, even so, he tried to believe there was no reason for him to be dissatisfied because nothing was going to happen to begin with. It had only been a challenge anyway. But even if he'd 'won,' he felt that now he'd ended up the loser. He stretched and tried to cool down and told himself there was nothing between them. But even after trying to convince himself of that, he became increasingly aware of Faye's appeal. And remembered how she smelled. And how her hair and skin felt under his hands and lips. And how she tasted. And he didn't want to leave the room. So, when Faye finally moved away from him and laid down on the opposite side of the bed saying she was going to sleep, Spike decided that there was nothing else for him to do but to take the other half.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

Okay, guys (and I mean gals too) I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update but I'll try. I've spent so long in the library my back hurts because the chairs aren't very comfy. On the upside, they finally kissed! Well, basically it wasn't just a kiss it was more like making out…

Please review. I miss reviews…

_**Thank you very much for reading! See you soon Cowboys!!**_


	17. Fool

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, its characters, or any related paraphernalia. Wikipedia provides an ample list of who took part in the creation of Cowboy Bebop. Do the names Shinichiro Watanabe and Hajime Yatate (the Sunrise animation staff) sound familiar?

I'm back…I don't like the chairs in the library…

_On wit__h the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

The room was warm. Her body was hot. The air she breathed was balmy and carried his scent. Her lips tasted like nicotine and Spike. Her skin still remembered his touch. For a second Faye regretted not giving in. But, for that night, just laying next to him was enough. She looked around the room for a while. From underneath the corner of a slightly folded curtain she could see the world outside getting brighter. She wanted time to stop, at least for a few more minutes.

She turned to watch him sleep with her eyes lazily open. He lay over the sheets as if he were just casually napping. His hand closest to her was behind his head and the other over his stomach. There was something about watching him sleep. He looked so relaxed. It made her sleepy, the way his face looked completely at ease as he rested and how his lips were barely parted. She wondered how much of his time she would ever have. There were instants when Faye just felt like kicking him, and punching him, and, why not, even shooting him. But at times like this, she just wanted to kiss him, and hold him, and touch him, and she wanted to…

Faye moved closer to him, very slowly, and laid her head next to him, just where it was resting a little against his body. She could feel his chest breathing and unconsciously smiled when she realized that even in his sleep his breathing was almost silent. Almost. She tried to stay awake for a little longer, but before she knew it, she had fallen asleep feeling incredibly comfortable and warm.

**IIOIIOIIOIIOIIOIIOII**

The next time she saw him, it was two days later at the hotel's restaurant. They were sitting across each other on a private table hidden on a corner of the premise. At first, Faye felt awkward when she saw him. All she could think about was that first kiss; how she had been determined to not give in at all, and how few seconds later she was taking his coat off. But Spike didn't say anything. Well, not about that night. He, however, had several other things to say, all relating to the information that Ed had found about Faye's attacker.

"It wasn't a woman. The first one I mean. Well, not in appearance. Ed found the recording from the security camera. Turns out the primary one was destroyed and the backup too. But, they sent the file through a computer from one place to another and Ed was able to retrieve most of it. It's a bit hard to see because of the night vision, but I guess it's better than nothing."

Faye became exited for a second. "Did you see his face?" But when Spike shook his head she felt her blood drain out of her and an extreme frustration take hold of her mind.

"When he ran out, his hat fell. His hair was short, a man's cut. When he turned to grab his hat, the coat swung a bit and you can see his shoes. But the guy was smart enough to know where not to look."

"It could have been a disguise," Faye said quickly. She didn't want to believe it had been someone else other than the blonde woman--the woman that was already in a clinic dealing with her problems. She just wanted all of this mess to be over with.

"Maybe. But I highly doubt it. His silhouette was masculine enough."

When the main course came to the table, Faye interrupted Spike and talked nonsense about the weather. When the waiter left, she stopped mid-sentence and let Spike continue. He explained to her several leads, but there were so many possibilities.

"This is leading us nowhere." Suddenly, she felt very irritated, not necessarily because his attacker hadn't been identified yet, but because she felt like Spike had completely forgotten what happened between them.

"I'm not done," he said just a bit strictly. "The warehouse that exploded was owned by your boss. The guy that I was trying to catch, the one that was caught in the explosion, he worked for your boss too. He was the "assistant" of the girl you replaced. I'm guessing he probably found out something he shouldn't have. It might be a stretch, but I'll say whoever shot you is closer than we might think. But we might be overanalyzing then. The two mishaps may have nothing to do with each other"

Faye fell silent. She half way had expected some sort of betrayal from her had-to-be-friends. Even if it was just a stretch, the faces of all the people she knew quickly filled her mind. Who would do something like that?

"I'm not done," Spike said with a slight air of frustration, obviously tired of Faye's constant day dreaming. "Another woman was attacked recently. She had your same job except it was in a small bar. She didn't die, but she did get the attacker's pseudonym," he paused for a second, "Zeus."

"Zeus?"

"The woman before you, she quit after being raped by the same guy. He scarred her face and now she's in a mental hospital. Or at least we think it's her, her records are pretty much destroyed."

At some point Faye's heart had stopped beating. Her mouth tasted like bleach and her tongue was stuck to the back of her throat. Her insides were cold. Spike saw her reaction. He stretched his neck a little but continued anyway.

"The guy is known for attacking beautiful women, some famous, some not. He specializes in knives. All of his recent victims have a lightning bold carved on their lower abdomen. I've looked at his records; his first attacks were done at gunpoint. He never did kill the girls. But the idiot couldn't handle a gun well enough and was almost caught. After that, he switched to blades."

"But it doesn't make sense for him to switch back to a gun. Especially in the manner that he attacked."

"That's the problem. But there is a chance that we interfered when we ran down to the stage right before the lights went out. In any case, he seems like a more justifiable hunt." He stopped talking for a while and finished his glass of wine. "In any case, I came to tell you that much. I'm heading back to the Bebop. I need to look into something Ed found out about a hospital I was in for a while."

She didn't respond.

"Well, Ed says she misses you and that you better get back alive after the trip is finished." He stood up. "And she says not to forget the souvenirs."

He looked at her still waiting for her to answer. She returned his stare absentmindedly for a few seconds then took a bite out of her dessert. He turned ready to leave, but just before he was too far to reach, her hand dropped the fork and took a hold of his wrist. She wasn't quite sure what exactly was going on in her mind. Maybe she'd been planning on telling him all the little thoughts roaming in her head. But now they had suddenly disappeared. She looked at her hand. What was she doing? She released his wrist. Spike put his hands in his pockets.

"Tell Ed that I'll go see her soon."

"Is that all?"

No. It wasn't. But if he wasn't going to say anything neither was she. She nodded her head and gave him a small smile. She picked up her fork again and took another bite of her dessert.

"Don't get yourself killed," he said listlessly.

Faye's small smile diminished as she felt a claw grip her heart tightly. That one sentence. It made her feel so hopeful. She didn't know whether she could afford that much. She brushed it away and finally replied with a simple, "That's my line."

He shrugged his shoulders and continued with his easy stride. She didn't watch him walk away. Not again. She was tired of that. She felt her small handgun against her side. Damn. At times like this, she really did feel like shooting him. He took her mind away from the tempting warmth of her weapon and continued eating her cool dessert.

Although she tried to keep her eyes locked within a small radius, they managed to wander away just in time to catch a glimpse of Spike as he left. Somehow, it seemed that he managed to hurt her anytime they were alone. She wondered whether she was giving him just as much trouble. She knew something for sure. Now that he was gone again, she was really glad that they had only kissed. A day like this would have killed her if they had gone any further. She struggled to push any thought of him out of her mind as she tried to convince herself that her dessert was twenty million times better than Spike's stupid kiss. She knew her attempt was idiotic, she'd been trying that for over five years and he was still there. But then again. When she thought about it, she was the fool for falling in love with someone like him.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

Personally, I find it interesting that in mythology Zeus came down like rays of gold and showered beautiful women with light, only to impregnate them. Either that or carried them away disguised as a handsome white bull…and then impregnated them. Some god. So in case you were wondering, that's why I decided to use that as the criminal's pseudonym.

Oh, and in case you haven't noticed, I upped the rating to "M," so yeah, just in case you were looking for it as "T," sorry you couldn't find it in that section. Maybe it wasn't all the way up to an M yet, but I kind of feel uncomfortable leaving it at T. And in any case, now I can do some M material with gore and stuff. Neh, I really don't know if I want to do that.

Let's see, many thanks to: Sakura, Alexithimia, Madam Midnight, Kahoko, and tear-drowned-angel for the recent reviews. To everyone who's been supporting me: a big imaginary chocolate cake, unless you don't like chocolate, then you can have it whatever kind you like.

_**Thanks for sticking with me! See you soon Cowboys!!**_


	18. Affecting

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its character, I'm merely one of those people that fell in love with a fandom and are exploring their creativity level. However, do give thanks and credit to Shinshiro Watanabe and the Sunrise Animation Staff for the legacy they have created through Cowboy Bebop.

Okay, here we go.

…_On with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

Things were never easy with him--Julia was living proof of that. Or rather, dead proof. But if he'd know kissing Faye would have made him feel so animate, he would have done it sooner. Damn it, he really did feel like a jerk whenever he thought about it. But what was he supposed to do? He didn't know. He bet she didn't either since she didn't say anything. In their situation, it was extremely compromising to say anything. But he realized that saying nothing was just as bad. Maybe he could have said something. Spike thought about the different approaches that followed a kiss of that scale. All of them felt unsuited. Besides, he'd told her to stay alive: that was something. He'd grown used to having her around, drinking more than half of the bottle, stealing his smokes.

In the distance he spotted the Bebop. He asked for Ed to open the gate and he landed his ship. He stepped down and looked around the garage. Faye's ship lay collecting dust. And then he was thinking about her again. It bothered him sometimes, not being able to keep his mind focused. Spike walked towards the 'living room' and found Ed doing a sort of headstand. He walked to her and stopped a few feet away from her. She was wearing headphones and humming loudly. She didn't notice him. He pushed her ankle and made her loose her balance. She rolled to the ground and managed to somehow land on her feet.

"Spike-Person!" she shouted loudly. "I can't hear you!" Spike rolled his eyes. There would always be a child within her. He pulled the headphones off. She grinned. "You're back already."

"Yes."

"How's Faye-Faye?" She was trying to pull her hair back; it had gotten longer than she usually kept it.

"She's fine."

"When is she coming back?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know at all?"

"Soon. Maybe."

"Why?"

What was she expecting out of him? "Because she's working and…"

"And?"

'We kissed and we didn't say anything about it afterwards. So it's completely awkward and that's something she probably would like to avoid for a while because even I'm avoiding it,' Spike thought. He looked down at Ed's exited eyes and finally ended, "she said she'd come sometime soon." She seemed satisfied with the answer.

"Where's my souvenir?"

Spike hadn't realized that he was supposed to get souvenirs too. He dug inside his pocket and found a piece of bubblegum. He handed it to her. "There you go." Ed stared crossly at him but she took the gum and put it in her mouth. She chewed it for a few seconds then she spit it out.

"Ah!" Ed said with her tongue stuck out. "Ith buins!"

"Huh, I guess it was cinnamon." He looked at her computer. "Can you show me what you found?" He was anxious to know.

"First, Ed's getting some water." She walked to the kitchen and in a few minutes returned. She sat in front of the computer and opened up several windows. Spike tried to keep track of them, but there were too many and he gave up. He paced around for a while, but sat down after a few minutes.

"And how did you find all of this?"

"Those sheets that you printed out mentioned a hospital and something about research. Ed knows research takes more than testing on one anything. Ed searched the web and some other files. Piece of cake!" She finally stopped her speedy search. "Look at this. Spike-person's 15 of 20 people. Ten male, ten female."

He inched closer to the computer and read a few of the descriptions and procedures. "Can you tell who the other people are?"

"Not all. There's some that are only referred to as numbers and there is only a brief description of the people. See here, the procedure failed for some. Numbers 16, Number 17, whose real name is Ted Wimberley, and Number 18 all died because their chambers were connected and one of them failed."

"Guess I got lucky."

"Yep. See here, Riley Smith or Number 3, died because of chemical misbalance. Number 7 died because the chamber wasn't closed correctly. Sarah Quentin or Number 8 and Number 9 were revived earlier and one died of heart failure. Sarah went crazy. Number 12 made it okay, but he tried to escape and they killed him. Number 20 rotted for some reason."

"Anything else."

"Yeah. You were all collected within a few days."

"So basically anyone who died was taken."

"Nope, only people who had a certain level of damage. If the injuries were extreme they did not qualify for the experiment…" She gazed around for a while looking incredibly thoughtful.

"What is it?" Spike asked a bit alarmed. This was not fitting of happy-go-lucky Ed.

"Jet-person told Ed about Vicious and Spike." She fidgeted with her fingers. "Do you think that he…that the Vicious-person is Number 11 or 13 or 14 or 19?"

"No."

She stared at him shocked by how cold his voice had sounded. He had fallen deep in his own thoughts for a fraction of a second. Soon, something inside of him made him look at Ed and he saw her face look concerned. He forced himself to soften his voice, "I don't think he could be," and before she could ask for a reason he said, "I highly doubt it anyway." He blinked and saw red. Jet didn't know. Faye didn't know. Ed didn't have to.

She nodded and didn't question him on the subject. "I can't get any more of the information from the hospital's computer unless it's hooked up with one of these." She pulled out a small device about the size of a flash drive. Spike had used them before. "Here is the map of the hospital." Spike looked at it for a few minutes. Even without Ed's help, he had originally planned on going there and stealing the individual records of the rest of the patients. But now he wasn't so sure.

Number 1, Number 2, Number 4, Number 5, Number 6, and Number 10 were all women who had died at around the same time Julia had. The chances of her being one of them were just as high as Vicious being one of the four that were left. He knew it was a stretch and that he was probably worrying himself over something nonexistent. But now that he felt so close to Faye, he didn't know what to do. In the end, he just needed to make sure.

He needed to know that there was nothing left. He needed to make sure that there was nothing that could make him feel guilty if he ever got the chance to kiss Faye again. He knew that there was something between the two of them. But at the same time, they were both too proud to admit anything and they ended up in the same spot as before. Except it was a bit different. They felt everything become stronger and it was harder to remain within the same mark.

For a while, Ed watched as Spike stared past the blueprint. He didn't notice when she got up and left. Jet came by with a cup of instant ramen.

"So what're you gonna do?" he asked.

Spike looked at Jet's hands and took the cup and chopsticks away from him. "For the time being eat."

"Did you touch base with Ed?"

"Yeah, she already told me everything she knew."

"How was Faye? I guess even someone like her will get tired of people shooting at her."

"She's fine. But whoever that bastard is will get what he deserves sooner or later. Not to mention we get to cash in a bounty." Spike looked at the cup. "I can't believe we're back to instant ramen. This is no good for my health."

"If you're worried about health, you should try to quit your bad habits."

"That would really be the death of me."

Ed came in with two more cups of ramen and handed one to Jet.

"You should take Faye's example and try to quit."

Spike swallowed the food in his mouth. "That reminds me. She took my last smoke." Both Ed and Jet were quiet. "She took maybe one or two drags from it. It happened after that woman tried shooting her." He didn't mention what happened afterwards.

Ed beamed.

"I guess you won," Jet said disappointed.

"Yep. I beat Faye-Faye." She took a bite of her noodles. "And Spike-person too!"

"What," Spike said with his mouth full.

She tried to imitate Spike's voice. "I bet you'll have a hard time finding all this information." She switched back to her voice. "Ed bets she won't." She took a bite of her food and continued in Spike's voice, "I guess we'll see."

"That's not a bet." Spike said.

"Nope. Spike person and Ed made bet."

Spike looked at Jet almost demanding that he explain that indeed that was not a bet. Jet looked back at him and said, "Blame Faye for it. A while back I made a bet with Ed too and didn't realize it. Besides it sounded like a bet."

Spike told Ed, "I don't remember ever saying that."

"Well, that's because Spike-person's temporal and frontal lobes have little glitches since Spike-person was not awoken correctly."

"Just comply for once. You won't get around it. I didn't."

"Faye's affecting you," Spike said directly to Ed. She just proudly smiled back at him with her mouth full of ramen. "What do you want?"

"Paint."

"Can't you ask for something better?" Jet said. "You made me buy one of those video game gadgets."

"Thanks Jet," Spike said sarcastically.

"Nope. Ed wants paint for her room. Ed's making a projector but the wall's rusted so she can't see very well."

Spike decided not to argue, it gave him an excuse to go out for a while and be alone with his thoughts. After dinner, if it could be called one, Spike went and got her a gallon of white paint. When he returned, she immediately ran to her room and started brushing the pigment on the wall. Spike sat down on the couch again and stared past the blueprint and thought about what he could tell Faye if she ever asked him anything about his hospital visit. She didn't know what had happened to him to begin with. Would she even ask? 'I went to check whether Julia was one of the cryogenics patients' sounded terrible. It made him sound like he was hoping Julia was alive. And maybe he was and didn't realize it. He wasn't sure. He did have a tendency to cling to the past. But he just wanted to know either way. He needed to know because he was getting very tired of thinking about the same thing all day long.

He looked at the desk and saw the information concerning Zeus. He wondered if Faye was still okay. He was about to call her but decided against it, unsure of whether he was doing it for his or Faye's benefit.

The guy had attacked another girl again. He picked up the report and read through it, this one was at gunpoint. Spike looked at the rest of the information and tried to make connections out of everything he knew. He didn't worry about his thoughts; he let them run wildly for hours and made sense of only a few things. Several times Jet came in and looked through some of the papers. Ed came splattered with paint and played some games while she let the first coat of paint dry. The second time she was around her hair was short again and she was fresh out of the shower. She checked her e-mail and went to sleep. Jet came back; it was two in the morning.

"It looks like Faye isn't only affecting Ed."

"What was that?" Spike said trying to sound casual. For a while he thought he'd only imagined Jet speaking.

"Oh, nothing." Jet said. "But you better go to sleep. It does you no good breaking your mind over something."

Spike let the papers fall on the table and watched Jet walk out of the room. He tried to ignore them but he picked them up again and looked through them somehow thinking more of Faye than the criminal. He finally set them down, right over the hospital's blueprints. Did he really need to infiltrate the hospital? Would he really get anything out of it? He knew one thing for sure, not knowing was worse than anything that could come out of making the stupid trip. He picked up the drive that Ed had handed to him earlier and buttoned his coat as he walked out of the Bebop.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

Not much use of the M rating here but I think it will show through soon, maybe one or two more chapters before it really shines. (Wow, I haven't written a story with so many chapters before.)

I know that both this chapter and the last one seem a little lax, but how would you ever be able to tell a storm if you never saw peace? Yeah so, I hope you like it anyway.

_Thanks for Alexithimia and Kahoko for the reviews_. Although I must say I'm kind of disappointed, so far only two reviews from about one hundred hits on the last chapter.

P.S. My back is killing me. I hate the library's chairs.

_**It's been 18 chapters! See you soon Cowboys!!**_


	19. Nothing

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its character, I'm merely one of those people that fell in love with a fandom and are exploring their creativity level. However, do give thanks and credit to Shinshiro Watanabe and the Sunrise Animation Staff for the legacy they have created through Cowboy Bebop.

After what seemed like constant testing I'm back on the computer and typing away.

…_On with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

Nothing particularly special happened after Spike left her. Faye continued her routine, whether her mind was paying enough attention to it or not. But by the time that she was back in the Milky Way, even Stephen, who could be very dense, noticed that something was different about her. He tried to cheer her up and took her on a shopping spree with an unlimited budget. She walked through racks of clothes and shelves of shoes and saw the items, but most of them failed to capture her attention. She didn't buy much of anything. And that's when she realized that there was definitely a problem.

On the way back to her apartment she didn't bother to try and explain her lack of interest for buying things. She turned to face the window of the car and watched the people flash by as they drove through the streets. When they arrived at the complex, Stephen helped her carry the bags into her room. Faye sat down on the couch and didn't bother to look at the items she had purchased. She took her heels off and placed them besides the couch. Then, she grabbed her slippers from underneath the coffee table and put them on. She pulled out a cigarette from her purse and lit it.

"Do you need an ash tray?" Stephen asked as he put the last bag down. "I can go get you one from my office."

"I can use a dish," Faye answered indifferently.

"No," he insisted, "let me go get you an ash tray. I'll be right back." He walked out of her apartment.

Faye remained seated on the couch and saw the ashes at the end of her cigarette build up. She took a drag. The ashes kept growing. She liked to believe that at times like this, when there was nothing happening, she wasn't thinking or feeling anything. But it was otherwise. Her mind had become so used to thinking about Spike that now it felt normal to just have him lingering inside of her mind all the time. There was also a constant void in her chest. And up to a point, it didn't make a difference anymore, so she didn't bother herself about it.

She saw the ashes become so thick that they were about to fall off. She began to rise from the couch to get a saucer, but Stephen returned with the tray just in time. He set it down on the table and Faye flicked the ashes off. He took a seat besides her. He began to dig through his pockets and pulled out a cigarette. When he placed it between his lips, he glanced at Faye.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked casually.

Faye remained quiet for a minute while she mulled things over in her head again. She got up from the couch and put the rest of her cigarette out. What she was thinking, it wasn't something she could just blurt out. It was the kind of thing that was impossible for her to speak to others about. She looked at her bags and then at Stephen. Suddenly, she realized she needed to shape up. Get a bit of the old Faye back.

"You know, I think I'm perfectly okay," she said unexpectedly cheerful. "Thanks for the help. I'm going to order something to eat. Do you want to stay?" She grabbed one of the bags and pulled out the tissue. She set the bag and tissue down on one of the tables while in one of her hands she had a small jewelry box. She opened it with both hands and pulled out a lovely gold and emerald ring. She tried it on. It didn't fit anywhere but her wedding band finger. She'd have to get it resized. When Stephen didn't answer, she looked at him.

"I'd love to stay," he finally said. "But I'll just cook something instead. I went to culinary school you know. And quite honestly beautiful, you have to taste my cooking."

Faye tried not to laugh, "Okay. I don't really know what's in the kitchen but if you want to see, go ahead."

He finished the rest of his cigarette before he got up from the couch. He walked straight to the kitchen while Faye saw him leave. She picked up her bags and carried them into her room. She closed the door behind her. Faye went through all the bags and tried everything on again. There were a few items that she didn't like as much as she had expected, but she ignored those and focused on the ones she liked. After she'd seen everything, she lay down on her bed and picked up a magazine to read. After several minutes, she heard a knock on her door.

"Faye, where do you keep the cutlery?" Stephen asked.

She sat the magazine down and walked out of her room. Stephen followed her as she made her way into the kitchen. She opened a cabinet and there it was. She looked at the stove and on top of it the food looked ready to serve. Stephen followed her gaze.

"Yes, it's almost finished sweetheart. I figured salad was best first. All I need to do is cut the tomatoes, but you know how hard cutting tomatoes is without the right knife?"

"Did you look in that drawer?" Faye asked taking the plates down and nodding in the direction of the drawer.

He pulled it open and picked up a knife. He walked over to the cutting board and sliced the tomato in half with ease. He seemed to almost glow with joy at the effortlessness of the cut. He put the tomatoes aside while in two plates he made their salads. Faye left him in the kitchen and sat down on the dining table and waited while her thoughts consumed her again. After a few minutes, Stephen came out of the kitchen with the salads. He sat across from her and waited for her to have the first bite. She smiled at him in agreement and the meal continued with ease. After salad, they had chicken parmesan pasta.

Faye was incredibly satisfied. The meal was very delicious and she hadn't eaten so well in the longest time. She even enjoyed her conversation with Stephen, though it revolved mostly around work. He went so far as to make dessert, a simple chocolate mousse, and that's when their conversation started shifting. They talked about little things that didn't make much of a difference in their lives, like "yesterday I had a wonderful vanilla cheesecake." But the time passed by quickly and pleasantly. After the meal, they went to the living room and had a drink.

Stephen pulled out a cigarette again and lit it carefully. Faye handed him his glass. She sat down beside him. "That was a very good meal. I don't think I could take another bite," she said.

"Didn't I tell you honey? Although, it had been forever since I'd cooked much of anything."

"Why is that?" Faye asked curiously.

He took a drink. "Well, I went to culinary school. Whenever my wife and I were friends, she'd told me she wanted to marry a chef since she couldn't cook for her life. Obviously I wasn't a chef at the time; I've always worked in casinos. But as soon as I found out that she wanted a chef, I registered for some courses."

Faye was surprised. She'd always seen him live the life of a bachelor, always referring to every woman as dear, sweetheart, beautiful, honey, and any other name of the sort. "I'd never even heard you mention a girlfriend," she said.

"Well," he took a drag of his cigarette and flicked the ashes off. "I met her at a casino, I can't remember how long ago. Seems like forever now. She used to be one of the girls to dance on stage, part of a trio. I used to be her make-shift body guard since she had pretty big crowd following her. I'd walk her to her home every night and sometimes she'd come over to my place while we waited for one of her friends to pick her up. I guess after we spent so much time together, we became friends. And then I started falling for her. The problem was she had a boyfriend already. So I kind of gave up, even if I knew they were having problems. Then one night, she showed up knocking at my door. She had her nightgown on and her boyfriend's trench coat. It was raining so I told her to come in. We talked for the longest time. And we drank a lot too. Then very early in the morning, we got married at one of those little chapels you see everywhere on Mars.

It went well for the longest time. And I thought both of us were happy. She told me she was happy. But she lied. One day I started noticing how much she hung around her ex boyfriend, but since he played in the orchestra when she was dancing, I didn't think too much of it. I started to forget about their past relationship until one day I walked in on both of them while they were alone in his office. They weren't doing anything. But they were very close. I talked to her about it and she made me realize I was overacting. But I wasn't. A week later I caught them sleeping together…in my bed.

I really loved her. She was so beautiful and sweet in her own detached way; and she had a great smile. I told her, 'beautiful, I don't care if you cheated on me as long as you promise that you still love me over everyone else.' But she told me she wanted a divorce and pretended that what she had done was perfectly fine. I gave it to her, and then I barely saw her anymore. Obviously I was heartbroken, but a few weeks afterwards there wasn't a trace of her left, most think she left town, and I completely gave up on her."

"I'm sorry," Faye said with uncertainty.

"I think it's fine now. I've even met several nice girls that I've began to like. Sometimes I'd even take them out to dinner and we'd kiss and all. But in the end, I can't help myself. I can't trust them because of what happened with my ex and I make myself forget about them one way or another. I've pretty much decided not to love anyone ever again."

At that point his communicator rang. He picked it up. "…No, I haven't yet…Of course I can do it. I was going to tonight, but you kind of ruined it…No, I can do it some other time…Yeah, I know, it has to be soon…Yeah…Bye." He put his cigarette out and finished the rest of his drink in a hurry. "I better get going." He walked close to Faye and smiled kindly at her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gently grasped it. "Cheer up okay. You're face isn't suited for a frown."

She smiled at him. "Thanks for dinner."

"No problem, sweetheart." He picked up his coat from one of the bar stools nearby and put it on as he walked out of the apartment. Faye heard the door shut behind him.

She picked up his glass and took it, along with hers, into the kitchen sink. Faye stared at the glasses for no reason. She tried to bring her gaze away from them, but she had become unexpectedly troubled by Stephen's story and couldn't but think about it. She heard the doorbell ring. Once. Twice. And she finally moved. She went to see who it was. It was room service, but they had accidentally gotten the wrong number.

She went to her room and threw herself on her bed. Several of the bags that were still on top of the bed fell off. But she didn't care. She stared at the wall full of roses. For each rose, there was a man that at one point or another had told her "I love you." She hadn't kept the roses for any particular reason, save maybe to feel that there certainly were others who cared for her. But deep inside of her she knew that their "I love you's" were merely words stranded together.

But she wasn't too bothered about that. She never told anyone that she loved them back. She couldn't. She'd tried it several times. And failed every single time. She got up from her bed and dug through one of her vanity drawers. She took out a few pictures she had, there were some of when she was alone and there were some of the bebop crew. She started flipping through them. Ed sleeping on her keyboard. Jet when he'd tried out being completely clean shaven. Ed doing a yoga pose. Ein eating food from the table. Jet sleeping with a painted on mustache. Red hair and one eye. The list continued. There were mostly random photos. Then she came across one of her with long hair. She sat it aside without thinking too much about it and resumed looking at the rest. When she was done, she arranged all of them into a neat pile again. She set them in the drawer but the picture of her caught her attention. She picked it up.

Spike hadn't seen her with long hair; that was why she'd pulled the picture aside. But he probably didn't really even care to see it. She pinched the picture in the middle with both of her hands and slowly began to tear it. She hated her long hair. Then she ripped it again. The pieces began falling but they all fell down into the drawer. She threw the remainders in and shut it close. She was slowly being taken over by emotions she'd begun to hate.

After what had happened between her and Spike, it was obvious that he didn't feel the same way about her. The only thing that kept repeating in her mind was that he, like Stephen, had chosen not to love anyone anymore. She felt her throat thicken. What if she told him how she felt? Would that change anything? She dug through her things and found a very old picture of Spike. She stared at it and opened her mouth to say something but failed. Then, she moved her lips but nothing came out. Her eyes began to sting.

"I…" she said and her voice was already breaking. She swallowed again and whispered, "I lo..." And then nothing. She tried it again. But everything went just the same. She became so angry. Why was it that some people could say such things so easily? And she, who saw those three words as the only way to have Spike recognize her affection was only able to utter half of the phrase.

She looked up at the dried up roses. All those men felt nothing for her. Maybe it was the same with Spike. He'd loved Julia. And that was all.

She felt that every strand of hope attached to her and Spike were gone. She tried to find them again, but she always fell back to the same abyss. Spike didn't love her. She felt terrible. Her chest felt as if someone had tore something from inside and left the gap there to fill up with cold air. Her throat felt thick. Faye hated it. She hated herself for letting things get so far. She'd been crazy to believe that there was a chance for something between her and Spike.

A certain rage overcame her. She got herself on her feet, disgusted at everything she saw. She looked around her room and hated every single part of it. And then, everything became a good target. Photos. Artwork. Cards. Lamps. Her room became utter chaos. And she didn't care. It just made her feel so well to see a piece of something other than her be broken. Frames. Mirrors. Knick-knacks.

And the roses. She hated those roses more than anything in the room. They were so beautiful and fake. Full of meaning that didn't match her at all. Full of everything she wanted but knew she'd never have. She was meant to be alone all her life. This type of thing happened to her all the time.

Faye broke the roses with contemplative care. She took one of the flowers down and held it gently in her palm. Slowly, her other hand wrapped around the dried up bloom. And she crushed it. Broke it down the middle. Ignored the thorns biting her skin. And she felt much better after that. She did the same to another and she didn't stop there. She repeated the same process with the rest. Her body lost all the pain and a certain numbness overcame her. With every flower, a thought of Spike went down with it. And she didn't cry at all. Not even when she admitted to herself that, maybe in the end, it was that between her and Spike, there could only be nothing.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

_Thank you Kahoko, Alexithmia, nanhni-chan, killah bee, Harbinger of PIES, mcgthatsme, and tima for all the reviews_. (They made me so happy. (smile.dance.headbang.headbang.low five))

You guys really made me want to write more than I already did, if it hadn't been for those tests I encountered, I swear I would've updated sooner. But, I did squeeze out enough time to write the chapter summaries for the rest of the story. But, no, you can't read those that would spoil the whole thing. Wouldn't it? So chances are I hopefully will be able to avoid most writer's block since I've got the plot down.

_**We're on 19. Are things getting interesting now?... See you soon Cowboys!!**_


	20. Bitter Cold

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its character, I'm merely one of those people that fell in love with a fandom and are exploring their creativity level. However, do give thanks and credit to Shinshiro Watanabe and the Sunrise Animation Staff for the legacy they have created through Cowboy Bebop.

Are you enjoying the story? Do you want to read more? Do you? Do you?

If so…

_On with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

When he'd left the Bebop, Spike had been ready to finally settle his past, to get all the little remains of doubt out of his life. But he was used to things failing all the time. This kind of job was always unpredictable. He walked around the hospital for what seemed to be the hundredth time only to find that the guards had changed again. Their shifts didn't seem to have a pattern. It wasn't new. It was just a pain to deal with.

Spike had tried getting in three times already, only to find he had to quit in the middle and start over again because the guards were not in their usual order. He gave up for the day. It was getting relatively bright and he'd wanted to infiltrate with the night covering his back. But if he felt like it later on, he figured he could always go back during the day and try again.

He called the Bebop as he walked through the mostly empty streets trying to find a store that would sell cigarettes. He'd used up all of the ones he'd had left during the night. He waited patiently for them to answer. It took them quite a while.

"Spike-Person?" Ed said lazily. Maybe he'd woken her up.

"Ed, I tried getting in. But the plans and guard schedule we had don't seem to match what I'm seeing here."

Ed yawned. "Mmm…Okay! I'll get working on it!" she said suddenly awake and ready to go. "Spike needs to stay near the hospital in case a chance comes to get in."

"Alright."

He ended the call and continued his search for cigarettes. When he finally had a package, he wasted no time in getting a cigarette lit. He walked over to a bench and sat down. There was a newspaper besides him. He picked it up and started reading it as he smoked the box of cigarettes away.

It wasn't until about midnight that Ed contacted him again. He answered quickly, knowing Ed; she had already found a way to get in.

"Since we don't have the little-bitty coms Spike-person needs to listen carefully."

"I know," he said slightly exasperated.

"Okie-dokie then. Here's the plan…" Then Ed continued to explain the situation and the best route around the guard. The time he had to get in and out was pretty much up to him. But she would rather that he acted quickly.

After every detail was repeated for the second time, Spike was finally ready to go. He entered through the basement parking lot like he had attempted to do so many times before. He arrived at the gate and crouched down near the entrance. When a vehicle was coming out, the guard stopped it. Spike crawled behind some thorny bushes and stopped at the end, just when they were still useful for cover. Another vehicle exited several minutes later. He used the time to sneak into the parking lot.

He walked casually as if looking for his vehicle. There were still plenty of cars there even though it was night time. He reached an "employees only" door quite easily and ignored the sign. He closed the door behind him quietly. Still no guards. He walked a narrow hallway until he reached a split. There were two doors. One was for employees and the other had no sign. He followed Ed's advice and walked into the unlabeled door.

He looked around for a light until he finally found a cord. He pulled it and lit the room just to find that he'd walked into a closet. An orderly one at that. He moved several things around and he found a small green button. He pressed it and one of the empty walls slowly rose up. There was another door. He opened it carefully. No one.

Spike turned on all his senses and continued through the structure. It wasn't long before he heard a low whistling in the distance. He stopped and waited. The whistling continued to run smoothly through the halls. A low echo against the walls. Spike moved slowly. He placed his feet carefully on the ground, making sure that no sound escaped the soles. He creeped around the corner. Saw the guard. Hid quickly.

Spike looked at the gun in his hand. Maybe he didn't have to shoot anyone just yet. He lifted one of his shoes and let the sole fall on the ground just to where a small wave of noise was produced. The guard called out, "who's there?" Spike pressed himself against the wall and waited.

"If there's anyone there, you better show yourself." By the pitch of the voice, Spike didn't worry too much. He lifted his shoe again and made the same sound. "I'm warning you. I'm armed." Then there was silence.

Spike lifted his foot again and smirked. He let it fall heavily on the ground. The guard's gun went off. Spike fired a few shots in the same direction. The guard screamed and called for backup. Spike rushed out as fast as he could. He hid behind a cleaning cart as a few guards ran by. He looked around before continuing his route. Spike rushed the rest of the way until he made it to the closet. He heard footsteps pass the door and waited a few seconds as he catched his breath. He pressed his ear against the door leading to the first hallway and heard nothing. He opened the door slowly. He checked and no one was there. He walked out quickly and made his way to the basement parking lot. He creeped out again. The gate guard remained unaware of his existence.

He called the Bebop and within a second the call was answered. "Ed I'm out," he said replacing the few bullets he'd used up.

"Gotcha," Ed said. Spike could hear the keys of her computer being pressed rapidly. "The section Spike left is crowded…and it looks like the next one is being emptied out. Wait."

Spike walked to the east of the hospital and hid in a nearby alley. He waited with the communicator still pressed against his ear. He could hear Ed's keyboard. And nothing more. He lit a cigarette. He smoked quickly, almost as if that would help the time go by faster.

"Go."

He hung up the phone and rushed through the street and empty lot. He counted as accurately as he could. Four seconds. Spike jumped over a fence. Hid behind a disposal container near the door. Nine seconds. Above the metal entrance were two lights, one red and one green. He waited for Ed to hack it open. Twelve seconds. He heard someone running by and ducked low to the ground. Fourteen seconds. Fifteen seconds. It was taking longer than he had expected. Sixteen seconds. Seventee--the green light turned on. She'd missed by almost two seconds. Spike moved out from behind the disposal container and entered the building. He looked around, but the hall didn't seem familiar.

He continued to move as he had planned and headed towards the elevator. He saw a shadow against the wall at the end of the hallway. There were a few meters of distance between them. Spike looked around for the stairs. The door was just adjacent to the elevator. He opened the door carefully. The guard didn't notice. Spike opened a gap just thin enough for him to go through. The guard called out. He heard the guard walking closer. He rushed through the crevice. Closed the door silently behind him.

The stairs were made of concrete and the walls around him were cold. Spike walked down. Quickly. He reached the lowest part of the building. He could see the shadow of a guard reflect against the tinted window of the door. His heart started beating reasonably faster than before. If there were more than one guard, the plan was pretty much done for and he'd lose any chance of recovering the data. He crouched closer to the ground and moved closer to the door. He grasped the door knob and turned it slowly. He could see the guard turning to face the door.

Spike swung the door open and struck the figure on the sternum. The guard fell on Spike with the air knocked out of him. Spike grabbed the guard's hand and made the man loosen his grip on the gun. The guard struggled. Spike pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and covered the man's mouth with it. The guard slowly lost consciousness as the chemicals infiltrated his lungs. Spike moved him into the stairs. He took the guard's uniform and even with his clothes underneath, the uniform fit him big. Spike found a utility closet under the stairs and hid the guard away.

He rushed out of the stairs and walked out into the hallway. As he was tucking in his shirt, another guard came by. Spike moved into the darkness.

"Randy!" It was a female voice. "Did I hear something here?" she said stopping near Spike. She had blonde hair and over-tanned skin, probably around her mid-forties. There were large bags under her eyes.

"Randy left," Spike answered. "They called him to the other side of the building. Something seems to be going on down there."

"You don't have to tell me that. I got a call from Zach from that sector. They're too many guards away from here if you ask me…Wait a sec. I haven't seen you around here."

"Yeah, I'm from that sector. But I don't have enough experience so they pulled me out and told me to come here and tell Randy to take my spot."

"This crazy people. You're the fifth one they've switched. And now I'm stuck with a bunch of brats in this sector."

"It's only for tonight though."

"Not if they figure that something else is in danger. For sure you'll become a permanent one here Mr…?"

"William Hancock."

"Okay then, in twenty minutes, I'll call you and we'll figure out what were going to do about guard change. Now that were short we'll have to cover more ground."

They heard steps coming closer. "Nelda!" Someone called out. Spike recognized the voice.

"What is it Jim?"

As she called the name, Spike tried to hide even more in the darkness. He identified the guard before he had even reached them. It was the same guard that he'd met when he left the hospital for the first time. Jim walked quickly until he finally reached them. "They've called me out."

"Damn bastards," Nelda said bitterly. "How the hell do they expect us to cover so much ground?"

"Sorry Nelda, but I gotta go. They spied two people out there and no one seems to recognize them." He turned to look at Spike. "You look awfully familiar."

"He works in the red sector," Nelda answered.

"Guess I might've seen him whenever I sub up there, I better get going." He opened the doors up the stairs and rushed out.

"Go take his area, I'll cover half of yours and call one of the others to make them cover more ground. Got it?"

"What area is his?" Spike said casually.

"It's the lower ground were they keep the mainframe."

Spike was surprised. Could it really be that easy? He nodded. "It's in the west of the building right?"

"Good, you at least know the structure. Get moving will ya?"

Spike walked quickly towards his destination. He looked at the door numbers. He found exactly what he was looking for. He looked at the entrance system; it required a card to be scanned. He dug through his pockets until he found one of Ed's gadgets. He switched the card on and slid it through. Spike could hear the system processing. The door opened. The scanner was smoking. He walked into the mainframe room. It was dark. Unusually cold. He pulled out the USB connection and searched the computer for the correct entrance. He slid it into place and waited. The light on the drive lit up and started blinking. The screens on the computers turned on and Ed's signature flashed on the screens. Spike counted again as he waited for the files to be accessed by Ed in the Bebop. He stared at the drive; the transfer would be finished when the light stopped blinking.

He looked around the room and wondered why it was so cold in the area. He got up and walked around; always keeping an eye on the USB connection. He found several storing units were hundreds of paper archives were kept. He looked back. The light was red. The transfer was finished. He ran back to the unit and disconnected it. He put the connector in the safety of his pocket and rushed out. He placed one of his palms against the wall as he turned out the door. The room lit up. He had accidentally activated a sensor. The room was actually much bigger than it seem to be in the dark. There were several areas to it too. He walked back and went through a series of curtains and doors. The air around him became cooler by the second. He moved a curtain and saw several large drawers with the numbers 1 through 20 on them. The majority of the numbers were lit red, save a few that were lit in green; numbers 1, 5, 6, 13, and 14. Spike felt completely numb. For a moment, he felt unable to move at all. One of his hands slowly reached for number 14. He was slightly shaking. He opened the drawer with ease. A gust of bitter cold air emptied out.

The top part of the drawer was covered with frost. Spike placed his hand on one end and ran his hands across the sheet. A man's face became visible under what appeared to be glass. His features were slightly distorted and his skin looked blue. Spike closed it and opened number 13. A horrible stench spread in the air as soon as Spike had allowed it to. He felt himself gag and he shut the drawer quickly. Whoever that was, there was no way of bringing him to life again. His stomach was turning and he felt the acid burning the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, but the stench never seemed to leave the air. He covered his face with one of his hands. He hesitated to open the next drawer. His stomach continued to lurch with indiscriminate force. Spike forced himself to open the drawer up. A blast of cold air hit his skin, but nothing more. He maintained one of his hands on his face, but wiped the frost away from the glass with the other one. He saw the face of a dark woman. She looked like she was sleeping and was using the ice as a blanket. He closed the drawer again and moved to the next one. He opened that one with less uncertainty. Again, he felt the icy air touch his skin. He wiped the class clean. A red-headed woman. She looked fine, but the ice was starting to melt. There were air bubbles in the container. Spike closed the drawer.

Only one to go. He felt his pulse begin to race. That was the one drawer that could completely shatter everything. Any chance of Julia being alive or dead. Any thought he had built on Faye. His hand moved to the handle and he felt his fingers turn cold with the bitterness of the steel. He pulled it, but it was stuck. He tried it again using more force. The drawer didn't budge much. He prepared to try it again.

"Put your hands up!"

Spike looked around him quickly. Damn it. He hadn't been careful enough.

"I said, put your hands up!" Nelda shouted.

Spike still had his hand around the handle of the last drawer. He didn't move it. He needed to know what was in there. His lips were dry. He swallowed a knot behind his throat.

"Look boy," Nelda said. "I called your sector. They told me there was nobody like you down there. I figured that maybe you'd just been hired but turns out you aren't even in the records. I know you're not a guard so put your hands up and let me take you in quietly."

Spike looked at Nelda. He couldn't give up. Spike breathed deeply. He yanked the last drawer out. She shot. The bullet hit the side of the open drawer. Spike felt a terrible stench cover the room. A strange yellow liquid dripped onto the ground. He felt himself get sick again. He covered his nose and mouth with his hand as quickly as he could. Nelda did the same. She tried keeping a hold of her gun, but she lost her grip and it fell to the ground. The gun fired as it hit the floor and the bullet hit the side of the drawer again. The gap grew wider and the liquid continued to pour out. It splashed on Spike's clothes and shoes. He started backing away feeling his stomach turn and twist. Nelda tried getting closer to him. She stopped. A strange mass began falling on the ground. It landed in small heaps with a low and heavy thud. At first they looked like lumps of rancid dough, but they began to stretch and move across the floor. Spike's face wrinkled in disgust. The worms were spreading on the floor.

"Oh, lord," Nelda managed to say. She fell on her knees and her face turned red as she struggled to keep her stomach under control. Spike pressed the palm of his hand harshly against his mouth. He needed to get out. Quickly. He started walking around the drawer. The stench was terrible. He felt the vomit build up in the back of his throat. He stepped over the yellow liquid and on one of the moving blobs of mass. His face contorted as the worm was crushed under his weight. Nelda said something again, but her hands wrapped around her stomach. She lurched forward and her stomach started pouring out of her.

Spike felt his mouth turn sour. He tried to swallow. The bile kept building in his mouth. Nelda moved haphazardly across the floor trying to leave the room. Spike stared at her for a second. He pulled her up and started to drag her out. She covered her mouth again, but the acid in her stomach continued to pour. Spike rushed out of the room. He would lose control over his disgust any second. He finally got out of the room but even after having closed the door, that revolting odor was still all over him. He left Nelda sitting on the ground. She had her hand still over her mouth, though it seemed it wasn't helping her any. Spike turned and searched for the exit. He heard the static of Nelda's communicator. He needed to get out.

He continued running as fast as he could. The stench was holding him down. Spike felt his entire body become heavier. It was hard to breathe. He finally reached the stairs. He grabbed the handle and pulled himself up to the nearest floor. He opened the door to the exit. Two guards were running towards him. He pulled out his gun and shot both of them. He missed one. He felt his head fill with pressure. The guard that was still up aimed. Spike lifted his gun again and caught him on the shoulder. The guard fell forward trying to stop the bleeding. The scarlet blood ran between his fingers and down his tan uniform. Spike took the opposite direction. At last he found the door he'd entered from. He opened it with one strong thrust and ran out.

He hid behind the trash container for a few seconds and tried to clear his head. He climbed over the fence. There was a commotion building up behind him. He rushed to the alley and stripped down the guard's clothes. Spike ran as fast as he could between the alleys of the town. He wasn't sure how long he ran, but he finally stopped when he couldn't hold his stomach in any longer. Even after the only thing that was left inside of him was acid, he could still taste the nauseating smell. He wiped his mouth with the end of his sleeve. The other hand was holding him up against the wall. Fingers slightly shaking.

"Drank too much buddy?" A random man drinking in the alley asked Spike. He took another swig of alcohol as if a man vomiting was part of his ordinary day.

"I wish," Spike said trying to clear the bitter taste from his mouth. He looked at the man as he took another drink. "Can I have some of that?"

The man looked at Spike as if he'd asked for a treasure. He thought about it for a second. "But just one drink." He handed him the bottle but as Spike got closer, he shied away. "What the hell is that smell?"

"Forget it," Spike said as he left the dark alley. He didn't feel well. He started walking aimlessly. It always helped him clear his mind. He moved through the dead parts of town as the sun slowly began to rise. Empty lots. Falling buildings. Cemeteries. In particular, one caught his attention. The tombstones were all blanketed in dust. Wild rosebushes covered most of the flowerbeds. He didn't find a tomb that was taken care of. He walked through the rows of falling markers and read each one with care. Santiago Sinclair; 'More than our father, our best friend.' Amelia Paine; 'Always in our thoughts. Always in our hearts.' Catalina Flores; 'We will never forget you.' Marcellus Wisehart. Brandon P. Hillman. Dianna Burdock. C.L. Simmons. Julia.

He stared at the name for a long time. Spike kneeled next to the tomb and wiped the dust away. Julia. Nothing else was engraved. He stood up and scanned the area. How many other women named Julia where in the cemetery? He walked towards one of the thorny rose bushes and picked out a handful of the minute roses. The thorns scratched his dry hands. The red blood erupted from underneath his torn skin. He wiped it away effortlessly. He walked back towards the tomb and lay the roses down. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He smoked slowly. Felt incredibly numb.

Spike pulled out his communicator and called the Bebop. It was Jet that picked up.

"How'd things go Spike."

He took a drag of his cigarette before answering. "Not as well as they could have, but the job was done."

"Did you get hurt again?" Jet asked slightly annoyed, but with an obvious air of worry.

"Not really. Come pick me up will you?"

"Yeah, yeah. We're you at?"

"I'm in the middle of a cemetery called Oak View…I'll be near the exit."

"How did you end up there?"

"I'll tell you after you get here."

"Alright. I'll be there in a minute."

Spike put his communicator up. He took another drag of his cigarette. Even after smoking, he tasted the rancid smell in the back of his throat. He dropped the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it as he left the tombstone. He walked calmly now. He tried to not think about his past, but it became very difficult. Still, he knew one thing for sure; every connection to it was gone now. He reached the gates of the cemetery and took a seat on one of the benches. He closed his eyes. The stench was still clutching his clothes. He waited impatiently for quite a while until he finally saw Jet's ship land nearby. He took one last glance at the cemetery, towards the direction of the tombstone. If getting involved with someone else would mean their death, Spike wasn't sure he could allow it. He'd have to be crazy to allow something like that to happen. He just couldn't let the same thing happen to Faye.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

_Thank you guys for the reviews!_

Sorry I didn't respond individually to your reviews, I kind of figured you wouldn't mind if I used that time to write instead. So, here are the responses, short and sweet:

_Killah bee_, thanks for all the pillows, their definitely helping…

_Alexithimia_, was this update quick enough?

_Mcgthatsme_, Stephen is in his very early 30's, and you'll figure out if he's gay or not pretty soon…

_Darkangel199113_, you haven't gotten this far, but I hope you are still enjoying it by the time you get to this chapter…

_Nanhni-chan_, I think I'll be able to control most of my writer's block, but chances aren't so great when it comes to any of my school projects…

_Ashley_, CONGRATULATIONS! You are the 60th reviewer! Hope that's good news…

_Kaerfemina_, thanks for pointing the spelling mistake, I'll try to go back and check the story again, though I might not be able to catch all of them…

On a side note, this chapter was a lot harder to write than I had expected at first. I hope most of it works for you guys. The chapter is pretty long, about 4,000 words without notes and all the extra stuff. The following chapters will probably be around the same length, or at least as I have them estimated right now, and probably just as hard to write. I have a few projects to take care of, so I don't know if I'll be able to update too soon, but please wait patiently I will try and get it done as soon as I can.

Take care!

-_NonMetallicMetal_

_**Wouldn't it stink if I quit here? See you soon Cowboys!!**_


	21. Love

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its character, I'm merely one of those people that fell in love with a fandom and are exploring their creativity level. However, do give thanks and credit to Shinshiro Watanabe and the Sunrise Animation Staff for the legacy they have created through Cowboy Bebop.

Sorry for the late update.

Anyway…

_On with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

Faye stared at the clock for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning. It was noon. She had to get up. But even as she pulled the sheets away from her body and sat up in bed, her eyes continued to wander to the changing digits of the clock. She carelessly sat her foot down on the ground. Pain. Faye pulled it up quickly and cursed. A thorn was biting the sole of her foot. A small section of the surrounding area turned purple, and as Faye pulled the thorn out, the red of her blood escaped the small wound and tainted the spot.

She looked around the room again. It was a complete mess. She picked up a cigarette and lit it. Faye smoked sitting down on her bed with her legs crossed, away from the rose thorns, and thinking about nothing but the changing digits of her clock. But soon the only thing left of the cigarette was ashes. She found her slippers and, being careful not to hurt herself, stepped away from her bed.

She dragged herself out into the kitchen and tried to find something to eat. She put some water on the stove and waited for it to boil. Her refrigerator was stocked, but her apathy was getting the better of her. She stared at the different food items with the door fully open. The cool drift caressed her skin as she was frozen in time. She heard the water in the stove boiling and drip down onto the stovetop. Her thoughts were broken. She pulled out some strawberries from the fridge and almost simultaneously turned the stove off. As soon as she set the strawberries down, she heard the doorbell ring.

Faye made her way slowly to the door. She checked herself in a nearby mirror. She fixed her hair a little and tied the robe around her waist. When she finally made it to the door, she looked through the peephole. Charles was standing outside. His eyes focused on the floor. His hands in his pockets. When she saw who it was, she unlocked the door and opened it widely. Charles looked a bit surprised.

"Oh, I'm glad to see you're okay. I was wondering if something had happened to you since you didn't show up this morning to practice," he said sounding quite relieved.

"Sorry," Faye said. "I completely forgot."

"It's fine I guess. So long as, you know, nothing bad happened."

"No, everything is fine," she said. She tried to look at his eyes, but he'd always been a bit jumpy and kept his gaze away from people most of the time.

"Listen," Charles said finally looking at her, "I have a few other people to play for today, but if you can catch me sometime around five, we can go over the songs at the casino. Would that work for you?"

"Yeah, that's fine…Thanks."

He smiled at her. "No problem…Well, I better go. Mr. Luther is probably looking for me by now. And he'll kill me if I ever mess his schedule up again. See you at five."

"Bye," Faye said as Charles walked away. She closed the door and locked it again. She walked back to the kitchen to continue pulling food out of the fridge. Nothing she ate was relative, just whatever happened to catch her interest. First she had strawberries, then a small salad; she had some peanut butter, and then an orange. She left everything open and sitting out in the island. By the time it was one, she was in her bed again sleeping her day away.

She didn't dream. When she got up it was 3:43 in the afternoon. All Faye could remember was closing her eyes and seeing black. And then nothing. She forced herself out of bed yet again. She walked into the shower and finally woke up when the cold water hit her body. She stood rigid under the pounding of the water; feeling the drops hit her neck and back and then rush down the rest of her body. After a few minutes, she heard her communicator ring. She snapped back into consciousness, but continued her shower as the communicator remained unanswered somewhere in her room.

When she finally got out, she decided to dress up and had completely forgotten about the call. She got her clothes out of the closet and set them out on the bed. She pushed the crumbled mess of roses away from her vanity and took a seat. She fixed her hair and painted her nails. She got dressed in her favorite black skirt, silk top, and the highest heels she could find in her closet. She sat down in the vanity again and finished her makeup.

After a while, she walked down to the lobby and asked for someone to take her to the casino. Within minutes, she was roaming the halls of the Blue Moon. The long creamy halls that she once had had and interest for had become the backdrop to her life. She walked by, not noticing the small changes that in the past would have made her stop. She walked over to Charles' usual spot, but the finely polished piano was empty. Another one of the pianists was nearby looking through sheets of music as he loosened the bow around his neck. She asked him if he knew where Charles was.

"He was here a few minutes ago," he said, "but Mr. Luther called him out of the blue. He's probably in his office getting scolded again…poor kid." His communicator began to ring; he took it out of his pocket and answered, "Give me a sec Al." He turned to Faye again. "I'm not sure if he'll be there for a while or if it'll only take a few minutes….Al? Are you still there?...Yeah, I'm coming." He waved bye as he walked out of the room, the sheets of music under his arm and the tie swinging in his clenched fist.

Faye sat down on the piano's bench and stared at the keys. Why was it that it was so tempting to place her fingers on their barren surface? She pressed the keys while she waited producing only one note songs. She remembered that when she was a girl, there used to be a piano in her house. She never did learn how to play it, but other people would always play it for her. Such a long time ago. She continued to hit keys at random, but eventually, she got tired of sitting alone with a piano she couldn't play and decided to go look for Charles.

She decided to go check Mr. Luther's office, but when she finally reached the secretary, the door to the office opened. Mr. Luther was speaking to a young, red-headed girl as they were walking out. She had an air of seductive innocence. Her eyes were so pure, but the way she carried her body was screaming for the attention of men. She was the type of woman that, whether anyone liked her or not, they were bound to at least take notice of her presence. Faye saw Charles walking right behind them and tried approaching him. But before she had moved from the spot, he locked her gaze. She could tell he wasn't expecting her to be there. Mr. Luther didn't take notice of her; he was too seduced to care about his surroundings. Charles moved his lips slightly as if trying to tell Faye something. Faye attempted to make something from them but it was very difficult…was it 'get out?'

She didn't wait to find out. It was obvious that her presence there wasn't necessary. Felt uneasy. No one had to tell her. But, she had the sense that the red-head was her replacement. Maybe she'd grown too old. Or maybe she wasn't selling as much. Or maybe it was that she wasn't sleeping with every shareholder of the casino. But she wasn't a prostitute. They shouldn't have had expected that from her. She only slept with the men she wanted. And until recently, there had only been one person on her mind.

It was only slightly surprising. She didn't quite feel betrayed. Maybe she would have realized it much sooner, had it not been for her lack of focus since 'he' appeared again. She walked away from the office and waited for Charles on a nearby hall, it was the only way to get back to the practice room. Maybe Charles would tell her something. She was going to try and find out.

However, he never did arrive. She walked back to the room with the empty piano and sat down. The room was engulfed by the echo of the casino. The slot machines. The pouring coins. The clapping hands. An hour passed and he still didn't make it. She became annoyed and tried calling him, but he didn't pick up. She played with the piano keys for a while longer and after she was tired of waiting, she picked up her purse and walked out of the room. She hated waiting.

She didn't know exactly what to do. And she really couldn't do anything when she considered her situation. If she acted out incorrectly, the casino could cut her salary for creating inconveniences. And although she was sure that her time was almost up, she didn't want to lose any money that she could receive in her last paycheck. She continued to roam the halls hoping to catch Charles, but she never did. She finally decided to call the Milky Way and have someone pick her up. If she was going to waste her time, she'd rather not do it in the empty halls.

She waited in the lobby of the back entrance. Faye picked up one of the usual magazines and rummaged through the pages. After a few minutes, she was through scanning the magazines. She watched the second hand of a large rounded clock move and she tapped her nails against the glass of the side table as if her hand had been possessed by the ticking of time.

"Valentine!"

Faye was startled. She tore her gaze from the passing of time and turned to see who'd called her name. It was the man with beautifully cold blue eyes. He was carrying a suitcase and his red tie was still snug around his neck. Maybe he'd just finished some business with the casino since he was such a large investor. Or maybe he looked happy because he'd had his way with another one of the girls around. Faye felt disgusted. Maybe he wanted to spend a night with her. He continued walking closer to her, and his face switched from an air of delight, to one of sheer confusion. Faye forced her thoughts to the back of her mind and smiled. That was her job…for the moment.

"I haven't seen you in such a long time. I just wanted to, you know, apologize. I knew my ex-fiancé was a bit crazed, but I never expected her to be so insane." He walked next to her and lifted her chin so that their eyes met. His fingers felt cool against the warmth of her lips. "I swear. I never wanted you to get involved in this way. Faye. I really do love you."

She felt his breath on her skin. He gently touched his lips against hers. It hurt her. More than she had ever expected. She didn't need just any man to do that. She didn't need it from him. She slightly pushed him away before he could kiss her. She felt a knot behind her throat, but she kept her composure. She looked out and saw the car already waiting for her.

"I gotta go." She said and opened the door. She started walking out quickly, but he caught her wrist in a strong grip. She stopped. He stared at her but she couldn't figure out what he was thinking. And in a desperate attempt to leave, she pulled his face close to her and kissed him. He let her wrist go and wrapped his hand behind her neck. He tried to keep her close to him, but Faye pulled away after a second or two and with the sweetest voice said. "I really do need to go."

"I'll call you tomorrow okay?" he said sounding satisfied.

He finally let her go and Faye hurried into the car. She took a seat and looked out of the window. He was still standing there with a grin that made Faye hate him even more. "Jackass," she said.

"Excuse me?" the driver said surprised.

"Oh, not you," Faye said absently. She felt disgusted. She lit a cigarette and tried to get the man's taste away from her mouth. She couldn't help but think about him and how easily he said 'I love you.' It wasn't the first time he had done it. But since then, Faye had realized her inability to speak the same words. And it angered her. Hurt her to feel like she would never say them. Never truly hear them from someone else.

After she arrived at the Milky Way, she went to see if Charles was in his apartment. She rang the doorbell and waited. Nothing. She tried it again, but he still didn't answer. She decided that he wasn't there and gave up on practicing for anything and walked to the elevator. She made her way to her apartment feeling like she needed to clean herself again. As she entered through the door, she roughly cleaned her lips with the back of her palm. She could feel the red lipstick smear across her face. She didn't care.

She walked to the bathroom and began filling the bathtub with water. She looked at the clock. It was already nine at night. She kicked her heels off and had just finished unbuttoning her blouse when the doorbell rang. She slipped her robe and put her slippers on in a hurry. She walked to the door hoping that it was Charles since it was completely unlike him to just break any plans. And if anything, she wanted an apology from him. She'd wasted so much time. She didn't check to see who it was. She unlocked the door and opened it. It wasn't Charles.

"Is this a bad time?" Stephen asked.

Faye remembered the smudge across her face and winced embarrassed at her forgetfulness. "Just give me a second," she said. She asked him to come in and take a seat as she made her way to the bathroom.

When she arrived, the water of the bathtub was about to run out of the rim. She turned the water off. She hadn't even remembered to put anything in the water. She was annoyed at herself, but figured it would be best for her to clear her face off first. She found some makeup remover, and once all the red was gone from her face, she decided to see what Stephen needed. As she left her room, she realized that it was still chaos. Maybe she'd need to clean some of it up, but for now, she just closed the door behind her.

Stephen was looking through an old newspaper article and holding a drink in one of his hands. When he saw her coming he said, "Oh, I hope you don't mind I got myself a drink."

"You work here too, and the alcohol is supposed to be for all the employees…I guess I can't be too selfish," Faye said taking a seat on the couch across from him. "Did you need something?"

"Well," he said nervously. "Yes and no."

"Pick one or the other." Faye watched him carefully. Maybe he was going to fire her.

"Has anyone told you that you look beautiful in that robe?"

"Stephen," Faye said annoyed, "don't change the subject."

"Fine, beautiful. But would you should let yourself be flattered once in a while."

"Maybe after you tell me what it is that you want."

He thought about it for a few seconds. He moved the liquor in his glass. "I guess not much really. I suppose it's not that unusual anymore. At least not to me."

Faye stared at him waiting for a comprehensible response. She could hear the clock ticking above the fireplace. The ice on Stephens cup chime as it bounced against the glass. Something inside of her felt incredibly unstable and anxious.

Then he finally spoke, "I just gotta get some stuff out of my head. I'm tired of just thinking about it so much."

Faye was taken aback. At first, she didn't know how to answer. Was he asking her to listen to him? He'd always been so kind to her. And if he just needed someone to talk to, she couldn't see why it wouldn't be fine for her to help him. After all, he'd tried to cheer her up when she was down. "Okay," she said a bit awkwardly.

"Good," he said. He drank the rest of his glass all at once.

Faye didn't know what to think.

"Sorry. It's just…I can't help but be a little nervous."

They sat in silence for a long time. If he had gone there to fire her, Faye hoped he would do so quickly. But he didn't say anything. Stephen had left his cigarette on the ash tray and Faye could only focus on how it was slowly consumed by time. She thought it was unlike Stephen to act so nervously, but she supposed it was reasonable for people to act unlike themselves once in a while. She had done it before.

"Are you hungry?" he said. "I can cook something for us to eat."

"The kitchen is yours," she said. But she wasn't hungry. She just wanted to get rid of the silence in the room.

"I'll call you whenever it's ready, okay?"

"Take your time," Faye answered. She walked back to her room and locked herself inside.

Faye stared at the mess all around the room. She thought about it for a few seconds before she decided that it was a bad idea to have all the glass and thorns covering the carpet of her room. Faye was about to call for someone to clean the disorder up, but decided against it. She figured that it wouldn't hurt her to try and at least make it look decent by herself. If anything, at least to the point where it didn't look like she'd had some sort of crazed attack.

She went to the closet where the cleaning supplies were kept; she picked out a duster and rolled the vacuum to her room. She cleared her vanity from all the broken rose petals and tried to put most of them in the trash can. She did the same with all of her bureaus and cleared up most of the shattered ceramic and glass. The floor was dangerous. She was careful whenever she began to vacuum out the broken roses and the crushed glass. She laughed at herself. It had felt great breaking and tearing, but cleaning the mess up was a hassle. Still, when she finally turned the vacuum off, she felt incredibly accomplished and ridden of anger.

She looked at the clock again. She sat down on the bed and gazed around the empty room. She needed to get out of the robe, but just as she had finally undone the knot, Stephen called her. She tied it again and glanced at the clock before heading out. It was ten thirty. She walked to the kitchen to see if everything was okay. Stephen looked happy to see her.

"I was just about to go get you," he said serving the plates. "The table is set up already, so all you need to do is enjoy yourself, so take a seat."

"Thanks," she said as she awkwardly sat down.

He laid the plates carefully on the table and sat near her. They didn't make any conversation. Faye tried to eat a few bites, but her appetite was dead. She played with the food and pretended to take interest in it. But Stephen noticed that the only thing she had done was re-arrange the food.

"You've barely even touched it," he said, "it's not good for you to do that."

Faye apologized. She attempted to take a few more bites but she was unable to. She tried to keep her eyes away from Stephen, but he was clearly offended. He didn't finish his food either. After a few minutes, he stood up and picked up their plates. He carried them over to the sink and roughly started scraping the food away from the white dishes.

Faye walked into the kitchen to try and help him but he refused. She stood near the entrance and leaned against the wall waiting for him to be finished. To tell her whatever it was he needed to say and have him leave. She didn't like him there. But any time that it seemed he was finally finished, something else came up. Faye began feeling tired and her eyes would unconsciously close. She hated waiting. Faye turned to leave the kitchen.

"They want to get rid of you," he finally said.

It wasn't a shock.

"Easy comes, easy goes," she said. "I wasn't expecting it to last for too long."

Stephen carried a handful of dirty dishes and dropped them in the sink. He picked a cutting board and started washing it. He looked very vexed. His face was full of mixed emotions. Faye couldn't understand exactly what it was he was thinking. He finished washing the cutting board and roughly set it aside. He picked up a fork but remained still. The water continued to pour. He hesitated to speak. He mumbled.

"Huh?" Faye said.

He roughly turned the water off and walked close to her. He stopped just a few inches away from Faye. He was fairly taller than her, and it usually never bothered her. But his gaze at the moment was so fierce it was eating her up. She felt so small and vulnerable. Very unsure of what was going on. And she was tired.

"I don't care if you hate me," he said with determination. "I don't care what you may think of me. And sweetheart, you're the one that's causing all of this."

"What?" Faye said. She was getting more questions than answers. She didn't understand what Stephen was trying to explain. She felt her head was beginning to hurt. She could hear the forceful palpitations in her temples.

"This wasn't supposed to happen. I had promised myself I would let it get to me. I had been so determined. But you came in and it just made things difficult."

"Stephen," Faye said trying to back away, "I don't understand what you're trying to---"

He took a hold of her shoulders and made her look at him. The water from his hands soaked through the silk robe and her shoulders felt cold and damp.

"Damn it Faye…"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she said trying to take a step back.

"I love you," he said softly.

He tried to kiss her, but she moved away from him. She couldn't understand why this was happening. Hadn't he found a way to get rid of the feeling? He'd done it before. She tried to not look at him as she spoke, unsure of exactly what she was going to say. "Stephen, I…"

"Listen," he said. "You don't have to love me back. Tomorrow none of it will make a difference. They want you to disappear as soon as possible, anyway."

"So I guess I better start packing," she said. His grip on her shoulders was stronger and Faye felt too tired to try and struggle for the time being.

"No," he said quickly. Faye looked up at him surprised. "Even if you left. If I knew you were alive somewhere, I'd chase after you until I was sure I couldn't love you anymore. I've already talked to Mr. Luther about it…he agrees."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked. He didn't answer.

Faye finally pulled her hands from her sides and placed them on his chest. She tried to create distance, but it was nearly impossible. She managed to get him away from her and quickly walked out of the kitchen. But Stephen was right behind her and cornered her again.

He looked at her as if expecting some reaction from her. But all Faye displayed was indifference. She hated when men treated her like that. He said her name again and pressed her against the wall. Faye could see his chest heaving heavily. She could feel his balmy breath on her skin. He rested his forehead on her head. Faye didn't look up. She tried to push him away again, but he didn't move. Then, he somehow managed to have their foreheads resting together.

"Let me go," Faye said coldly while trying to restrain her annoyance. She was tired of being treated like a ragdoll.

"I can't," he said in an almost pleading whisper. He closed the distance between them and stopped just a few centimeters before their lips touched. "You did this to me."

"Fuck you."

But he didn't seem to be bothered. He kissed her and held her strongly against the wall. Faye tried to find a way to escape his grip but she couldn't get one. He stopped to catch his breath. But he didn't smile or frown. He just looked at her with unreadable eyes. He tried to kiss her again, but Faye bit his lip in anger. His blood trickled into her mouth. She spat on his face and managed to distract him long enough to kick him. But it hadn't been good enough.

She stared at his blood-splattered face. He looked at her with a serious face, but after a few seconds it changed. He smiled. Strange. Disgusting. Faye's heart began to race, her mind filled with hundreds of thoughts. But they were cloudy. A distraction as she tried to get his hands away from her body. He took her wrists and held them against the wall; he smirked. And she understood.

"It's better is you don't struggle," he said almost as if he were scolding her. "Better for you. Better for me. We both end up winning."

"I'm an atheist," Faye said and simultaneously head butted him.

He grunted in pain, but didn't release her. He rested on her shoulder and waited for the pain to go away. His hot breath was strong against her skin. Faye felt his grip tighten and his body pinned her against the wall. Her head felt unstable and she tried to have her eyes focus on something but it was becoming difficult. He chuckled.

"So you know…I kind of figured you would. A bounty huntress and all. That's what made me want you. My beautiful huntress. I figured if I could fool you, I could fool just about anybody else, even myself." He sounded overjoyed. "The thing is. I don't care if you doubt the supremacy of others…I'll make you believe."

He touched the tip of his tongue against her neck. Her skin crawled with anxiety. She tried to escape from him. But his experience was too obvious as she attempted time and time again only to fail. He slowly managed to keep her hands useless as he wrapped his arms around her. "This is the only way that I won't love you. Once you're gone. None of it will matter." He forcefully placed her head on his shoulder and ran his fingers gently through her hair.

Faye tried to reason herself out. But it was impossible. Her mind was so clouded it didn't make too much of a difference whether she was thinking or not. And then Faye knew that not having eaten but a few bites of the food was the best thing she could have done. If she had been hungry, she was sure that she would have been dead by now. He stopped stroking her hair and grasped a handful of it tightly. Faye gave a small sigh of pain. Stephen pulled her head back and kissed her.

He slowly made his way closer to the couch and forced her to take a seat. He ran his hand from her shoulder to her neck and pushed her down. Faye couldn't breathe. She wanted to yell, but her voice had suddenly died. Stephen held her down putting all his weight on her neck. Faye grabbed his arms and tried clawing his grip away. Her hands felt weaker and weaker and she could only see a blur of images.

He kissed her again, his grip still hard on her neck. He ran his lips across her face and laughed. Faye felt her chest cave in. She had imagined it impossible for her to feel so weak and useless. She wanted to kick. And hit. And tear his eyes out. But she was finding it harder and harder to retain her consciousness. He didn't appear bothered by her resistance. Rather he was enjoying it. She could hear his laughter from time to time. Almost as if from another realm.

He released her neck. The air rushed into her lungs and made her lightheaded as she gasped for breath. He touched his lips against her even as she tried to regain her breathing. He ran his hands across her body but all his weight was heavily upon her. She felt her eyes water, unsure of whether it was the fault of her suppressed feelings or just a simple physical reaction. She felt a tear run down the side of her face. She wanted to be saved.

The knot of her robe came undone. The bitter air of the room bit her skin. Her muscles contracted and her body became even more rigid. Stephen reached for something out of his pocket. Faye caught a glimpse, but couldn't see what it was. But she didn't need to. She felt the cold blade run dully over her abdomen and travel across her body until it reached her neck.

He loosened his hold of her now but held the knife almost puncturing her throat firmly. He had secured his dominance. He stripped her arms away from the robe and pulled it away from underneath her body. He kissed her neck and shoulders. His fingers traveled her exposed skin with an uncontrolled fervor. She could feel the bruises slowly build up on her skin. Her chest felt void.

She tried to blink the water away from her eyes. But they kept coming back. And she couldn't control them. And she blinked again and struggled time and time again. Her body was becoming exposed as he tried to pull the skirt away from her hips. But things were clearer. She heaved for air. Her vision and consciousness were returning to her. She breathed heavily and tasted every second of her corruption. No one was going to save her.

She had to save herself.

Stephen pressed the knife closer to her skin. The blade only a fraction away from piercing her skin. She swallowed hard and tried not to move for the time being. His other hand moved to her neck again and he held it tightly. She began to lose focus again and she gave a groan of powerlessness. Her rigid body sunk into the couch again. And she saw black.

Stephen loosened his tie and slung it over her neck while he unbuttoned his shirt. He wrapped the tie around her neck and managed to hold the ends of it tightly with the same hand that was controlling the knife. Faye tried to blink away the darkness. She couldn't.

She heard…her heart beating. Her shallow breath. The rustle of clothes. Her communicator ringing. His laughter. But the ringing was a constant rhythmic salvation. The repetition of the shrill, high pitch sound made her break away from the darkness. Shapes began to build up on the surface of her dull eyes. Eventually she could see a blurry image of Stephen's smile. And his distraction.

The adrenaline devoured her body. She forgot the knife almost tearing her skin; the tie secluding the air from her lungs. She threw her weight forward. And punched. And kicked. And swore. And tore herself free from her domination. The shapes and blurs of Stephen's figure almost lost in the darkness of her room as she aimlessly attacked him.

"Bitch!" he swore and managed to position the knife on her throat again. But she didn't care. She lounged forward and attacked him again. She felt the blade violate the surface of her skin and the warm blood caress the nape of her neck. She swung her arm against his wrist and the blade flew and across the room. He swung his other arm and his fist caught her face and made her stumble backwards.

He pushed her down again. Faye's arms were free and she desperately searched for something to defend herself with. She couldn't understand why the instinctive sense of weakness was giving her so much strength. Her temples were pounding against her skull and there wasn't enough air to satisfy her need. Faye's hand hit the corner of the coffee table and a bolt of pain ran across her arms. Her fingers scrambled around the surface. Stephen was furious and he started relying on his violent force to try and tame her. But he couldn't.

Faye's hand glided over the glass of the table and touched a burnt cigarette. Her eyes grew wide as she felt the cold of the glass touching her fingers and finally reached something of value. Before Stephen could retract her hands again, she picked up the heavy ash tray. She swung it with all her force and smashed it into the back of his head.

He screamed in agony. Faye felt the glass shatter in her hand. The echo of his pain resounded against her ears and she closed her eyes as reaction. His weight fell on her body. His head landed on her chest. Then nothing. She heaved and stared at his face contorted in anguish. Her lips trembled. Her eyes remained bolted open in suspense. She tried to control her breathing but it was nearly impossible.

The blood from his wound trickled down onto her bare skin and slowly rolled down her sides. Her body was shaking and all the adrenaline suddenly disappeared from her body and was replaced with uncertainty. She felt disgusting. Anger began to build up inside of her and she viciously pushed him away from her. He grunted as he fell to the floor and she threw whatever was left of the ash tray at him. She looked at her hand and she couldn't tell if the blood running between her fingers was hers or Stephen's. She got up from the couch and kicked him as hard as she could.

Someone knocked on the door.

Faye's breathing picked up rhythm again as she realized that she needed to disappear as soon as she could. If Stephen had talked to Mr. Luther about tonight, he was being protected by the casino. She slid her bra straps back into place and pulled her skirt down. The knocking continued. She could hear the door trying to be forced open.

She ran to her room, the world violently moving around her. She pulled the curtains away and forced the window open. She looked down and saw death beneath her. Her body shook as she climbed out of the window and into the ledge of the building. She placed her feet down carefully and her ankles shook as her weight finally rested on the tip-toes of her feet. She closed the curtains and the window. There was no turning back.

Her back was pressed against the cold granite and her hands moved slowly against the wall as her feet carefully traveled the ridge. It was dark and the streets were empty. She continued to make her way around the building until she reached the corner. She felt her breath run short and her joints turn into melting wax. She closed her eyes as she turned and managed to remain stable on the ledge. She opened her eyes and sighed with relief as she saw the curtains of the closest window swing against the wind.

She moved quickly and didn't bother to check if there was anyone near the window. Her body was exhausted. If she'd stayed on the edge any longer, her muscles would have collapsed. When her feet finally touched the floor, she felt a surge of blood run to her head. She had to stop and hold her temples as the pain disappeared. She looked around; she was in a master room. It was empty. But she could hear voices further inside. The bed was a mess and a man's pajamas were spread on the floor. She picked up the top and put it on. She carefully moved from room to room and spotted two men in the kitchen. She kept low to the ground and managed to remain unseen even as she entered the dining room. She was about to move out when she accidentally hit the corner of the table.

"Did you hear something?"

"No, I didn't. Anyway, like I was telling you. Do you mind if we take next week off? It's been forever since we've spent together and I've missed you so much sweetheart?"

"I miss you too…I'll try to talk my way out but we'll just have to wait and see."

Faye was out of their sight range. She made her way to the door and opened it as carefully as she could. She peered outside the door. There was no one on that side of the building. She didn't bother to close the door and ran to the elevator. She pressed the button to go down. Her heart was beating fast. She looked back and forth and making sure no one was nearby.

When the doors opened. She felt an incredible relief. It was empty. She closed the doors quickly and pushed the button to the basement. The numbers slowly started to decrease and the adrenaline began rushing into her. The degree of the situation was sinking in, harder than it had before. She had no money. She had no shoes. Nothing to call for help with. Maybe no one that she could turn to. No one stopped the elevator. How late was it?

The doors opened and the hundreds of cars shone under the artificial light of the building. She stepped out. It was musky and hot. She found it difficult to breathe. Faye saw the guards walk closer to her as they continued their routine. She rushed out. The empty streets were covered with trash and the bitter air was beating hard against her. She was so cold and empty. She walked through the streets ignoring the shocked gaze of a few passerbies. She ran.

She wanted time to rewind. To go back to the time when she had never been through cryogenics, when she still felt that there was someone always protecting her. To the time before she became a bounty hunter. To the time before she killed someone for the first time. To the time before she had ever considered love to exist.

She ran as fast as her weakened legs could carry her and she didn't stop. She reached the slums and the darkness of the city ate her up. She fell and she forced herself onto her feet again and continued to run. Her blood was boiling so bad it seemed to disappear. But she ran. She ran as much as she could.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

I guess that this chapter kind of serves as a good example of sexual abuse awareness. Remember that there is such a thing as date rape and that a good amount of sexual abuse is committed by a person the victim knew. Yes, so I guess I'm trying to say, be aware! I thought I should type this in here because I recently read it on a billboard and I thought that it fit with what just happened in the story and because it's never a bad idea to spread some awareness.

_**Dedicated to:**__ Kaikai PANTS, Killah bee, _and_ darkangel199113._

If we split the words up, you all get exactly 2,222 words. Not a bad deal, don't you agree? The story, without notes ended up being 6,666…kind of interesting I thought. And yes, the words are picked at random so that you all get the different parts of the story. And if you just finished reading the chapter, you get a nice glass of milk and cookies of your choice!

_**See you soon Cowboys!!!**_


	22. Gone

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its character, I'm merely one of those people that fell in love with a fandom and are exploring their creativity level. However, do give thanks and credit to Shinshiro Watanabe and the Sunrise Animation Staff for the legacy they have created through Cowboy Bebop.

: Bows in sincere apology for not being able to update any quicker :

_On with the story!_

(…continues to bow…)

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

Spike slept twenty-eight hours. He only woke up to drink a bit of water and make trips to the restroom. And after another few hours in bed, his eyes eventually opened again. He forced himself back into his black dreams. However, he found himself struggling to keep his eyes closed at all. He glanced at the clock, it was almost eleven. He could see through a small window in his room that it was very dark.

He yawned. The dry skin of his lips broke; he felt the blood building up over the crevices and licked it away. Spike sat up. His head swerved and forced him to lie back down. He stared at the ceiling as the pain disappeared. It was quiet. It felt almost as if he were the only one in the Bebop. And it was cold. He pulled the blankets over his body and turned in bed. He stared at the clock and waited.

His stomach burned. But Spike didn't feel like he could eat anything at the time. Simply thinking about food made him feel nauseated. And just as he was trying to stop thinking about food, he felt his esophagus expand and his nose sting. He could feel the acid of his stomach rising to his mouth. He forced everything down and rushed to the bathroom. But by the time he had arrived, he didn't feel sick at all. He stood in front of the door. His bare feet stung from the cold metal of the Bebop. He felt the chill travel into his bones and decided to go back to his room. As soon as he gave a step, he felt the vomit rushing to his mouth again. He quickly opened the door and leaned over the toilet. This was much worse than any hangover he could remember.

But by the time it was one in the morning, Spike was back in his bed with the sheets over him and no longer feeling nauseated. However, he couldn't sleep, so he didn't even try. He stared at the ceiling again, it seemed to be the only thing that kept him from looking at the clock. He couldn't understand what was wrong with him. He felt tired, but at the same time, he felt the need to be awake. It was almost as if he was supposed to be somewhere else, though he had no idea where that could have been.

He tried not to think. He didn't feel like complicating his situation by thinking about things that seemed so distant. So he continued to stare at the ceiling. To keep track of every minute that passed. Until eventually, his own subconscious tuned away his will and forced him to sleep until nine that morning.

When he woke up, he felt hot. His sheets were on the floor and his clothes were drenched in sweat. His heart was beating fast but he couldn't figure out why. He hadn't dreamt anything. Or rather, he couldn't remember anything. Though for some reason, he awoke feeling incredibly vulnerable. He brushed everything away and picked up his blankets from the floor before going to find Jet and Ed.

They were both in the kitchen. Jet was cooking something over the stove, looking very much like Jet always did. But Ed had her head laid heavily on the table. Ein was at her feet looking very dismal.

"So you're finally awake," Jet said as Spike took a seat. "You want something to eat?" Spike shook his head. "You've been sleeping for over a day, you need to get something in your stomach."

"What's the point," Spike answered. "I'll just end up throwing it all up. It happened last night and I hadn't even eaten anything."

"I figured that was you. Do you at least want something to drink?" Jet asked.

"I guess so."

Spike looked at Ed again. Her head was still on the table and she had not spoken. He'd been sure that by now she would have at least told him 'hi,' but she hadn't. She looked almost like an oversized ragdoll that'd been forgotten on the kitchen table. It didn't suit her.

"What's wrong with you?" Spike finally asked her and hearing no response added, "Are you feeling sick?"

"No," was her muffled reply.

Spike looked at her for a while longer, almost expecting to pry an answer out of her with his stare, but it wasn't working. He saw Jet coming closer to him. Spike looked at him and asked, "Is this some sort of PMS?" Jet sat a cup down in front of Spike and shrugged his shoulders. Spike felt the steam from the cup rise and touch his face. It smelled like peaches. He sighed heavily. "Are we out of coffee?"

"No," Jet said. "But you're sick, you need to drink tea."

"Damn it Jet. I'm not sick." He answered.

"Have you seen your face? You look red. But tell you what, take your temperature and if it's normal, I'll give you coffee," then he handed him a thermometer.

Spike stared at the cup. He sighed and pulled out a cigarette, they seemed to be the only thing that didn't make him feel nauseated. He lit it and rose from the table. He picked up the tea and the thermometer and went to sit on the yellow couch in the living room; just the scent of whatever Jet was cooking was making his stomach unstable. He took a seat and placed the tea down on the table. He was getting cold again, but thankfully there was a blue blanket slung across the couch. He wrapped himself with it and stared at the tea a little longer before he took a drink. He finished over half the cup before he decided to take his temperature.

He held the tea and the rest of his cigarette in his left hand and placed the thermometer in his mouth with the other one. To his surprise, he saw Ed walking by, though very slouched. Jet came after her and took a seat on the couch next to Spike.

"Naw wha?" Spike said as he tried to keep the thermometer from falling out of his mouth and nodding towards Ed.

"Apparently, she hasn't slept at all. Since she didn't have anything to do this morning, she started taking care of the laundry. That's all she's been doing. And quite honestly, I'd rather not be in the laundry room right now. Who knows what chaos has formed in there."

The thermometer beeped. Spike glanced at it and read it quickly, it was 102.3 Fahrenheit. Jet tried to reach for it, but Spike turned it off and sat it as far away as he could on the table. "It said 99.3…I told you I was fine."

"You're getting sick aren't you?" Jet said almost as if Spike's opposition was amusing him.

"I don't get sick. Besides it's called not feeling well."

"Whatever you say…But in that case, I'll go make you some coffee then." Jet rose to his feet and walked towards the kitchen.

"What for?" Spike said before Jet was too far away. "I've already drank most of this stuff."

"Alright then," Jet said and walked back to the couch and sat down. "Before Ed left the kitchen, I asked her why she'd stayed up for so long. She said she'd been calling Faye all last night and she didn't answer. So Ed stayed up gaming waiting for her to call back. Seems Faye was always pretty good about answering Ed's calls…well, except for last night. I guess Ed's just a bit worried."

"But. You know. It's Faye," Spike replied inappropriately.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jet pried.

"It just…she…It wouldn't be surprising for her to be spending the night at some guy's hotel room…that's all." Spike finished the rest of the tea after he spoke and sat the cup down.

Jet waited for Spike to be finished. "Even then, I'm sure that by now it would be late enough for her to call back," Jet said. "Well…I guess…Unless this guy is pretty special or something. Don't you think?"

Spike didn't answer.

"Well, if you'd explain that to Ed, maybe she'll finally calm down enough to go to bed," Jet finished and he walked out, not giving Spike the option to refuse

Spike threw the remainder of his cigarette inside his cup. He didn't want to explain the situation to Ed. He didn't intend to defend Faye's position. He didn't agree with it to begin. He didn't think he could calm Ed down seeing as he was becoming upset just thinking about what Faye could be doing. He pulled the blanket away from his shoulders and walked to the laundry room just to keep his mind slightly distracted. He knew that sooner or later he'd have to tell Ed anyway.

When he reached the door, he could hear Ed making a commotion inside. He felt almost inclined to just forget about brining up the subject. Then, he heard Ed scream inside. He opened the door quickly. Ed stood over the washing machine holding a bundle of pink clothing. Spike looked closer and cringed. Those were his shirts. Ed saw his face and tried to shove the clothes back in, but it was too late. She looked at him sheepishly and grinned awkwardly.

"Oops…" she finally said.

"Those aren't all my shirts are they?" Spike asked but Ed maintained the same guilty grin. He sighed heavily. This was not a good day. He tried to ignore his clothes for a while. "Jet told me you haven't slept at all," Spike said abruptly.

"I'm waiting for Faye-Faye to call me," she said while she began pulling his clothes back out.

"Is there something important that you need from her?" Spike asked. He leaned on the frame of the door waiting for an answer.

"No. But Ed hasn't heard from her in such a long time."

"Ed," Spike started and tried to sound as objective as possible, "Faye has an actual job to deal with…and she's met a lot of people. Maybe she's just spending a lot of time with some guy or something." His words seemed to have no effect on Ed for the time being. She pulled out the rest of his pink shirts and put them inside the dryer. Spike watched her expecting some sort of response.

"Yeah…I know," she finally said and yawned. "Can we… go…visit Faye-Faye?"

Spike thought about it for a second. What if Faye wasn't with some guy in a hotel room but rather he was in her apartment? It would be awkward to be there. But he saw Ed's hopeful eyes look very tired and against his will said, "Fine, but it'll be much later in the afternoon. Go to sleep."

"'Kay," she answered with no hesitation and left the room in a hurry.

Spike left the doorway and stepped inside to turn the dryer on since Ed had forgotten to. He heard steps behind him. He turned around to find Jet standing by the doorway.

"I was just watching the news," Jet sounded alarmed, "…turns out there been some assaults on women since last night. And I don't mean just a few."

Spike's hand remained suspended in the air just a few centimeters away from the start button. He turned to Jet to make sure he understood what he was inferring. "You want me to go check on Faye."

"I think it'd be a good idea. Chances are she could be with a guy…but with what's happened, it's just as likely for it to be otherwise."

"Okay, I'll go as soon as I get dressed," Spike answered quickly.

"Where's Ed?" Jet asked noticing she wasn't in the room.

"You just missed her. I think I finally convinced her to go to sleep."

"We better let her then. She doesn't function well when she's tired," Jet said and started walking out of the room. "I'll check to see what's going on in the police." Spike nodded and Jet was gone.

Spike finally let his hand fall heavily on the start button. A light blinked. The door wasn't closed properly. Spike opened it. In between his clothes he spotted something red. He pulled it out. The fibers of the cloth were damp and as he expanded it, the moist texture against his fingers made him wince. Then he realized it was a woman's red sweater. But it didn't look like it could be Ed's. It looked like something out of Faye's closet. Spike stared at it, but slowly his doubts of Faye made him realize the time he was wasting. He threw it back inside and slammed the door shut.

**II-II II-II II-II**

He had his hands in his pockets as he walked towards the Milky Way. In his fist, he held the key to Faye's room. He'd never returned it once he had gotten his hands on it, but he'd never been quite sure why. It had just felt like a good idea at the time. He stepped close to the entrance and through the glass doors he could see a man standing behind the reception desk. What had happened to the girl? She'd always been so nice and let him walk into the building without an escort. Not necessarily the best receptionist, but it certainly made his life easier. Spike stared at the man who now took her spot for a while; he would probably not be as kind, or as easily swayed, as the girl.

Spike walked down the steps to try and think about what to do next. He was getting tired of having to chase after Faye. If he found her again, he would be more than willing to handcuff their wrists together just to keep track of her. He pulled out his communicator and called Faye hoping she would answer. He heard the monotonous repetition of the ringing over and over again and then her voicemail took over. He hung up and waited. The air was dank. There wasn't a ray of sun. It was a terrible day.

A dark limousine pulled into the driveway and a flock of girls poured out. They wore white feathers and sparkles all over their small show suits. Their heels were tall and slender, like something Faye would wear, except that they were covered in more sparkles than any Spike had seen Faye wear before. One of them dropped her purse as she walked in. Spike saw it fall and then lay forgotten in the sidewalk; he turned to see its owner. She was one of the girls wearing plainer suits and that trailed at the back of the group. Then he smirked, he could definitely convince her of giving him a hand. He picked up the purse and called out to her. She turned around and looked surprised to see him holding her purse.

"You dropped this," Spike said casually.

"Oh, yes..." she said looking around as if to make sure that the purse was definitely hers. Then she stared at him. "I'll catch up with you girls in a minute," she said to the others while her eyes were still locked on Spike.

"Okay, but don't take too long," one of them answered and then they disappeared quickly as they entered the building.

"Th…Thanks," she finally said as she began walking closer towards him. "I had my communicator and everything in there."

"No problem," Spike responded as he handed the purse to her. "I'm just waiting here anyway."

She looked around the street as she took the purse from Spike's hands. "Doesn't look very fun."

"It isn't," he said bluntly.

"Why?" the girl asked very curiously.

"My…um…" Spike began, his hesitation clear for a second, "girlfriend…won't answer her phone and I'm…worried about her."

"Oh," the girl sounded disappointed. "Then why are you waiting here?"

"This is where she lives and I can't go in since I don't have an escort," then he looked at her and gave her the most pathetic look he could muster.

The girl was quiet for a second and she continued to look around the street, she bit her lower lip. Then, she finally said. "I'll take you in."

Spike smiled. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

The girl smiled back and held his arm tightly as she walked him up the steps and inside the lobby. She still held his arm very close to her, even when they had already reached the elevator. Once the doors of the elevator had closed and after she had pressed the button for the second floor, she released his arm. Spike choose Faye's floor and watched the girl as she dug inside her purse and pulled out a card.

"Thanks again for returning my purse…" then she smiled just as the elevator bell rang and the doors opened, "if things don't work out with your girlfriend give me a call." She stepped out and winked. Spike smiled back at her and watched the doors slowly close. He looked at the card and read it as he waited for the elevator to take him to the floor he needed.

When he finally made it to Faye's apartment, he knocked on the door. Hearing no response he slid the key into the keyhole and turned it. It didn't work. He tried it again, but once he looked closer at the lock, he realized that it had been replaced. He sighed in annoyance. He was definitely going to open the door, one way or another. He tried the key again just to make sure he didn't make an unnecessary struggle, but the attempt was no different. He dug inside his coat and pulled out a few pieces of small equipment that he was used to carrying with him. He looked around the hall and once he was sure no one was around, he picked the lock open. It didn't take him very long at all, but if it had been his choice, he would have rather shot the thing down.

Spike stepped inside the apartment quickly and closed the door behind him. He called out Faye's name. No response. He continued to walk inside the apartment until he was in the living room. For a moment he wondered if he'd been in the right apartment. The carpet was different in the livingroom and one of the couches looked slightly different in shape and upholstery.

"Faye," he said again but only heard the echo of his own voice travel across the walls. He walked towards the window and peered out. It had the same view. He looked around again. There were a lot of the same knickknacks he'd seen before. No, this was definitely Faye's apartment.

He walked into the kitchen. The sink was clear of any dishes. But many were still on the dish rack. The trash can was empty. But the cabinets were still full. He called out her name again and continued roaming the apartment. Eventually, he got tired of repeating her name over and over again when he already expected that she wouldn't answer back. He pulled out his communicator; it was better to see if Jet had found anything. He unconsciously pressed the redial button forgetting that he'd called Faye earlier. However, just as he realized his mistake, he thought he heard a ringing somewhere in the apartment. Spike walked again, this time trying to locate the ringing which still continued to echo discretely inside the apartment. He could hear it the loudest behind her bedroom door.

"Faye are you in there?" He said feeling aggravated.

No answer.

He opened the door slowly. The sheets on the bed were a little messy but otherwise well in place. The roses were gone from the walls. The ringing continued. It was almost haunting. The room looked completely void of Faye's existence. He felt as if he'd entered the wrong room, but the ringing reassured him otherwise. The walls were bare. The curtains were shut closed. There wasn't a single smear of lipstick around. Her black robe was missing. The room didn't even smell like her at all. And then the ringing died.

Spike noticed it stop almost immediately and pushed the redial button again. And there it was; the ringing of Faye's communicator. He walked around the room and finally noticed it was coming from underneath her bed. He got on his knees and lifted the skirt of the bed. The communicator lay just a little away from his reach. He moved his body closer to the bed and he stretched his arm trying to pull the thing out. His fingers finally touched it. He maneuvered it closer to his hand and managed to wrap his fingers around it. He pulled it out and sat down on the ground.

He looked at the screen. She had missed twenty-five calls already. He ended the transmission and put both communicators up. He placed his palm on the ground and pushed on it so he could get off of the ground. But instead, he found himself sitting down again as a shot of pain spread across his arm. He looked at his palm. A shard of glass was embedded inside his skin. He stared at it for a second before hastily pulling it out. The blood started to slowly escape the small wound. He unconsciously licked it away, and then he pressed the spot with his other hand as he got up from the ground.

After a while, he lifted his fingers away from the wound, and just as he did, the red continued to spill. He looked around the room. On the other side of the bed, he saw a tissue box. He walked around and reached for the box but then he noticed something. Besides the box was a magazine carelessly laid. He picked the magazine up and, to his surprise, Faye's gun was underneath it. Why would she leave her gun behind? Was she trying to get killed? And then Spike forgot about his cut. His mind wandered on the thoughtless behavior of Faye. He didn't want to think about all the trouble she could have gotten herself in, but he inevitably did.

He hastily picked the gun up and hid it besides his own. He rushed out of the room and out of the apartment. He closed the door behind him and walked away. But just as he was going to reach the elevator, he realized that he'd forgotten to check whether he'd locked the door or not. He walked back almost hating himself for being just as careless as Faye. He twisted the knob to make sure that he had locked it. He had.

"I don't think anyone lives there," someone said.

Spike turned to face an older woman. A thick layer of lipstick was across her lips; her hair permed too many times; her skin suffering the effects of tanning under lamps. But she carried herself quite proudly. And she looked at him almost as if taking pity in him. Spike felt her gaze tearing at his image but didn't say anything.

"Well, you see," she began, her voice unnaturally controlled into a soft pitch, "this morning, I saw a few men carrying out a couch and a few other things. But I'm not much of a gossiper so I didn't stay to watch."

She stared at Spike again. And he hated the way her eyes bore into him. He never wanted to see Faye's eyes like that; so cold and scrutinizing. He kept quiet; he could tell his silence was killing her. Her lips were slowly pulling together, almost as if she were sucking on a fresh lemon.

"Well…" she said obviously getting flustered.

"Okay, thank you," He said in the most dull and uninterested manner.

He removed his hand from the doorknob and pulled out a cigarette as he headed to the elevator. Behind him, he could hear the woman roughly puffing air out, clearly offended by his lack of interest. Then he heard her heels on the floor, and he looked back. Though he knew it wasn't Faye, he'd grown used to expecting to see her anytime he heard the harmonious walk of stilettos. But all he saw was the same worn woman. He lit the cigarette up and tried to focus on nothing more than smoking.

**II-II II-II II-II**

Spike and Jet sat in the living room of the Bebop distantly watching Faye's communicator and gun, both of which had been laid on the table. From time to time, Spike could hear Jet's heavy sight or the pitter-patter of Ein's paws as he walked by. They had already shared as much information as they knew and they still couldn't quite figure out what was going on. Faye was missing from her apartment. There were no records with her name in the police station; not in the hospital's either. She didn't bother to tell them anything.

Spike had run out of cigarettes. He dug in his pockets hoping to find at least one, but all was in vain. The only thing he managed to pull out was an empty cigarette box. He stared at the label. It was the same brand that he'd had with him when he'd first kissed Faye. And then everything replayed. He remembered the way her skin felt and the way that she tasted. How her skin turned pink and how she looked with her hair a little messy. But then it wasn't him kissing her anymore. It was someone else, someone he didn't even recognize. Spike felt his mind betray him as the thought of Faye being with someone else took over. Soon, he didn't see the box anymore, though his eyes were still directly focused on it.

"I give up," Jet said and all the images Spike saw shattered and he saw only the box again.

"I'm going to go buy some cigarettes," Spike said quickly while rising to his feet. "Do you need anything?"

"Not for now," Jet answered. "But keep a lookout for anything."

"I know," he answered.

While he walked through the streets, he kept a lookout for any sign of Faye. He looked at the features of people and saw her reflected in them a few times. But he could tell that it was only little pieces reminescent of her image, not at all her. He made it to the nearest store and bought a pack of cigarretes from the same brand. Then he walked back to the Bebop in much the same manner. Once inside the Bebop, he saw Jet walking by.

"Nothing yet," Jet said.

"I didn't see her either," Spike answered.

Spike walked to his room and managed to get a cigarette lit and between his lips rather quickly. He sat on his bed and placed an ashtray nearby. He smoked slowy. When he finished the cigarette he walked out of his room and into the livingroom. He picked Faye's things up from the table and walked back to his room. He sat down on his bed again and checked the gun. It needed to be cleaned. He pulled out several things from one of his drawers. He picked the gun up and cleaned it. There wasn't anything else he could do. When he finally finished cleaning Faye's weapon, he sat it next to his bed. He took off his shoes and lay down. He closed his eyes and slept.

Spike heard the ringing of a communicator. He opened his eyes lazily and instinctively picked up his communicator, but it wasn't the one that was ringing. He looked at the table besides his bed and noticed it was Faye's. The screen displayed a man's name. He ignored the call and sat the communicators down. He glanced at the clock and stretched his neck. He heard someone knock on his door. He asked whoever it was to come in. It was Ed.

"Are we going to go see Faye?"

Spike ran his hand across his face. "I don't feel well," he lied. "Do you mind if we go some other time?"

She looked disappointed but didn't say anything for a few seconds. "I guess," she responded. But it sounded, more than anything, like she'd already expected it from him. "Ed's going back to sleep," then she walked out.

Spike sat up and lit another cigarette up. He waited a while, hoping that Ed would go back to bed and not notice him leaving his room. He picked up his things and found Jet. "Hey," Spike said, "I'm going for a walk."

"Allright."

Spike continued to stretch as he made his way out of the Bebop. He heard something near the entrance. He stopped and kept quiet. He listened to the repetitive echo. It sounded like steps. He smirked; somehow he'd expected Ed not to give up so easily. He wondered whether he should let her go and find out for herself that Faye was missing or to prevent her from getting herself in any unnecessary trouble. He thought about it for a second. With women being attacked recently, he wasn't sure it was safe for her to be out. If he didn't stop her, Jet would kill him–and Faye too, if she ever showed up again. He kept his steps silent as he walked closer. But the closer he walked, the more he noticed that it didn't sound like Ed.

He pulled out his gun and continued to travel lightly. He couldn't see well because it was too dark near the entrance. "Who's there?" he asked.

There was no answer for a few seconds. He held the gun with more care and walked closer. He pulled back the hammer.

"Who do you think?" was the quick response.

He froze for a second.

"Faye?"

"No," she answered sarcastically, "it's—"

"Faye," Spike interrupted her reassuring his doubt.

He lowered his gun slowly but didn't try to approach her. She didn't move from the spot either, but she seemed to be fixing her shirt. Spike finally managed to move his legs and he walked closer to her. But once Faye saw him move, she did the same, except that rather than moving closer to him, she was trying to move past him. Spike saw her pull the neck of her shirt up as she walked by him. He followed her closely behind and they walked out of the darkness.

"Hey," Spike called after her. She stopped momentarily. He could see her body shake as she tried to resist the urge to walk away. But once he was near her, she took a step forward. Spike reached for her and placed his hand on one of her shoulders. He felt her body jolt under his touch. He turned her to face him but she didn't bother to look at him. Spike looked at her and for the first time noticed: she was in a mess. Then, her hands quickly reached for the neck of her shirt and she pulled it closer to her skin. He tried to say something, but he couldn't think of the right words. He noticed that Faye kept the neck of the shirt closed with her hands. It was as if she was trying to hide something. He looked closer at her neck and he caught a glimpse of bruised skin. Was she trying to be prudent? But then he realized the state she was in. She wasn't even wearing shoes to begin with. "Faye," he started but then his voice trailed off and he didn't say anything else.

He placed his other hand on her shoulder. She jumped and locked her eyes on his for a second. Her hands released the neck of the shirt. Spike noticed and he glanced at her skin. He saw another spot look bruised. However, Faye noticed her slip and her hands quickly closed the neck again. She looked up and their eyes met again for a split second before she looked away. Spike felt uneasy. He moved his hands over hers. Her skin was dry and she was shaking a little. He didn't like that. His eyebrows knitted together. He took her hands away from the shirt. The shirt collar fell away from her skin and he saw her neck covered with several of the same purple spots.

"Don't you think this is a bit too much?" he said sounding harsher than he had intended.

She winced under his voice. But then her hands stopped shaking. Faye took a hold of his wrists and pulled his hands away from the shirt. She stepped back and looked at him full of something Spike could identify as either anger or frustration. "You don't have to tell me that you idiot!"

Spike stepped away. He didn't look at her but remained were he was. He breathed slowly. His heart's beats were nearly painful. His blood felt incredibly heavy. Faye sighed, but her breath had breaks, almost as if she was restraining herself. He glanced at her quickly. Her back was towards him now. Her head was leaning forward. Her hair fell across her face and the back of her neck was exposed. Spike saw a wound across her skin. Suddenly, he didn't know what to think anymore and sighed heavily.

"Are you okay?" he said unaware that he had spoken at all.

"Why do you care?" Faye answered bitterly.

"Have you seen yourself?" he replied but this time he made sure his voice was kept under control.

"No…" she said.

They remained quiet. Spike's eyes were focused on the cut behind her neck. Somehow the wound managed to trigger a replay of all of the things that had happened in the past weeks. And then he felt like a claw slowly gripped his heart and dug its claws into the tissue. His lips felt dry and it was harder for him to speak than before. He tried to moisten his mouth, but it wasn't helping. Finally, he spoke.

"Zeus," Spike said softly.

"Yeah," Faye responded, but it was almost like the word formed from her breath.

That was all that she had to say in order for Spike to understand what had happened. He was uncertain of what to do. And he was angry. And felt guilty for not having done anything to help her. He wanted to show Faye that everything would be fine now that she was back. That she would be safe besides him. He wanted to stop her from shaking and to have the look of dismal rage away from her face. But he couldn't. And she didn't do anything either. They looked at each other waiting for someone to act, though neither was willing to move.

At first, they didn't take notice of the heavy steps that approached them. They didn't even turn to face whoever it was once they knew that the steps were only a few feet away from them. And when Jet saw the two of them standing together, doing absolutely nothing but staring at each other, he was taken aback. Then he noticed Faye's condition.

"Faye, what happe—" Jet said.

"Zeus," Spike answered as he tore his eyes from Faye.

"We need to get you fixed up," Jet said to Faye.

She shook her head a little before responding, "I know…Where's Ed?"

"She's asleep right now," Jet answered. "But it'd be best for her not to see you like this."

Faye took a quick look at herself. "Yeah, I guess it would."

"Well, at least you made it back okay, we we're beginning to worry about you," Jet said.

"Sorry about that, but you know me," she closed the neck of her shirt. "I'm gonna go shower now. I'll need to borrow some clothes."

"Yeah, we'll get you something. And afterwards we'll try to do something about all those wounds."

"Thanks."

Then Faye walked past Spike, not even bothering to look at him. Spike was able to finally breathe correctly. How was it that Jet's presence suddenly eased up the atmosphere? He didn't follow Faye and Jet as they walked back in, he continued out of the exit. But instead of taking a walk like he had earlier planned, he just stood outside of the Bebop and smoked a cigarette or two. He was going to walk back inside, but he was hesitant. He looked at the entrance of the Bebop and then at the streets. For now, he continued his earlier plans and left the Bebop to roam the streets.

When he got back, things weren't much clearer than they had been before. But at the very least, there seemed to be a strange peace now. He knew exactly where everyone was and that they were safe. It was almost as if they had entered the eye of the storm. Everything would be brought down around them eventually. But for the moment, they were given a chance to breathe.

He could smell something being prepared in the kitchen, and for the first time in a while, he actually felt hungry. He went to try and figure out what they were having for dinner. He looked at the stove, the four burners were on and there was something boiling in a large pot. He was about to lift the lid to figure out what he'd be eating, but Jet came in just before he had the chance to.

"There you are," Jet said. Spike turned around to face him and Jet continued, "I figured you'd postpone your walk, but I guess you went ahead."

"I did say I was going to," Spike answered.

"I know, but I bet you weren't expecting to find Faye walking in just when you chose to leave." He opened a cabinet and pulled out some spices. He motioned Spike to give him some space and once Spike stepped back, Jet checked all of the pots and pans. "It's almost ready. Go wake the girls up. Faye borrowed your room for a while...and some clothes too. Oh, and before I forget, help her clean that wound behind her neck. I was going to earlier, but she was tired and went to bed instead. The stuff to clean it up is sitting in the living room."

"Okay," Spike answered after a second. He was worried that once he and Faye were alone, they would return to their routine of useless silence and motionless breathing.

He left the kitchen and picked up the medicine box from the living room. The door to his room was wide open. He knocked on the door before stepping in. He didn't see Faye. He looked at his bed; the sheets were neatly placed over the bed. Above the sheets sat Jet's bathrobe. Spike sat the medicine down on the bed and picked the robe up. It was still damp.

"I'll get that," Faye said.

Spike turned around. She reached for the robe and took it from his hands. Spike couldn't help but smile a little when he saw Faye wearing his clothes. It was completely unlike the form fitting clothes he'd always seen her in. His clothes were obviously too big for her. Not overly large, but still large enough to where the clothes looked out of place. The sweatpants were noticeably rolled at the waist, but even then, the legs managed to cover most of her feet and wrap under her heels. The neck of the t-shirt fell away from her neck towards the left and exposed a little of her shoulder. He could see the bruises on her skin and then he remembered the wound on her neck.

"We need to clean that cut on your neck," Spike said.

Faye's hand covered the laceration and her fingers traced the spot for a second. "I'll take care of it," she said quickly and reached for the medicine.

"Don't be stupid," Spike answered. "You can't even see it correctly. Sit down and I'll do it."

She stared at him defiantly for a second then she shoved the box into his hands. "Fine." She sat in the corner of the bed and pulled her hair away to expose the cut.

Spike pulled out what he needed from the box and set them apart on the bed. He sat down behind her and looked at the cut. It wasn't as deep as it had appeared at first, but he could easily see it wasn't just a surface scratch. The skin was pink. He touched the spot. Faye shivered. Compared to his hands, the area felt hot. He picked up the disinfectant and soaked a cotton ball. He placed it over the wound. Faye cursed and as Spike continued to soak the rest of the wound, her body jolted. He remembered the times that she'd help him when he was hurt and how he'd always give her a hard time because she was never careful enough, or so he said. Then, noticing she didn't say anything, though it clearly hurt, he chuckled.

"Damn it Spike, it hurts," she finally said irritated.

"What did you expect?" he responded amused.

"Just finish," she said through gritted teeth.

"I'm trying to but you won't stay still," he said.

"Fine," she said and after that, she only shivered once in a while. Once the cut was cleared, Spike picked up the tape and laid a few strips across to close the wound. Satisfied with his work, he rose from the bed and put everything back into the box again. Faye's hand ran across the closed cut. "Do you think it'll leave a scar?" she said.

Spike glanced at her. "I don't know…" Spike tried to avert his eyes from the bruises on her skin. And he saw that from time to time, she would glimpse at him before turning away again. Spike glanced at the clock, "Jet said dinner was almost ready."

"I'll go wake Ed up," she said and left the room.

Spike walked back to the kitchen and soon, Faye and Ed showed up. They sat down, and for the first time in the longest time, it felt like everything was okay. The only things out of place were the bruises on Faye's body, but they all had managed to overlook the situation for the time. When they were finished, they walked into the living room. Ed got busy coloring Faye's nails in different shades of red. Spike's spot in the yellow couch was taken and he resolved himself to using the other couch instead. He tried not to look at Faye too much, and for the most part, found out that keeping his eyes closed was the best option. Though the subjects were closed away from Faye's current condition, they talked for a while and then watched some television. The Bebop was alive again. It was loud. It was a mess. But it felt right.

However, eventually it was late enough for everyone to sleep. Since Spike saw no point in sitting there with his eyes closed, he was the first to leave. When he was in his room, he undressed and changed into sleeping clothes. His body felt very tired and his mind was just as worn. He pulled the sheets away from his bed; and just as he was going to climb in, he heard knocking on the door. He walked over to see who it was and opened it up. It was Faye. He was a bit surprised and waited to see what she was there for.

"Jet told me you stopped at my apartment earlier and brought back my gun and communicator," she said in strained normalcy.

"Yeah," he said vaguely. He looked at her for a second and then he walked towards the table besides his desk to pick them up. "I cleaned the gun out, so it's ready to use again." He looked back at Faye. She was standing a few feet away from the doorway. Realizing she wasn't about to step inside his room, Spike walked back to the doorway. "Here," he said as she handed them to her. "Did you need them so badly that you couldn't wait until tomorrow morning?"

"Maybe," she answered.

"I see," he said. "Are you planning on going somewhere?"

"You know," she said calmly before her voice turned a bit resentful, "even if I did, do you think you'd have any right to stop me?"

"I didn't say I was going to," he responded quickly.

"That's good," she said slowly. She checked her gun once and looked up at him. She smiled, and though she looked beautiful, Spike knew something was hidden behind it, something that made him uneasy.

"Don't be crazy," he said before she interrupted him.

"Goodnight, Spike," she said very formally. Then she walked away.

Spike watched as she disappeared through the hall. He went back inside his room and locked the door. Then, he finally lay down. He closed his eyes and tried to rest. But something was different. It seemed that Faye was still standing right besides him. His bed, and the sheets, and he felt that maybe the whole room had traces of her scent. Though he felt something was wrong, he fell asleep faster than he had in a long time. It would have been the most peaceful of nights had it not been for that certain premonition he felt. He could see Faye smiling at him. It was the same kind of deceiving smile that made him lose any perceptive of her actions. He didn't like it. And in the morning when he woke up, he didn't feel rested. He glanced at the clock. It was already eleven in the morning. The Bebop was quiet again, completely unlike the night before. He sat up and his feet touched the bitter metal. The same chill that had been there hours before repapered. Something didn't feel right. Spike felt that strangely familiar hollowness in his chest. He tried to stretch his neck and rub the small traces of sleep away from his eyes. But somehow he already knew.

Faye was gone.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

. bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb courtesy of my sister's cat.

_**Dedicated to:**__ everyone who had enough patiance to wait for the updates and who has reviewed._

Sorry guys…I just couldn't make the update any earlier. I guess this update just really got me thinking though, if it's going to take me so long to update chaptered stories, I might have to limit myself to just writing one-shots so I won't have to make people wait so much…Or maybe I'll just have to retire. I guess I just have a lot of thinking to do about whether to keep writing fanfiction or not. But who knows, maybe later I'll gain more time again and I'll be able to keep doing long stories…

Anyway, don't worry. "Crazy" will definitely be completed before I make my decision.

HAPPY NEW YEAR! GRAPES FOR EVERYONE! (Unless you don't like grapes…then whatever you like is good.)

_**See you next year Cowboys!!!**_


	23. Crazy

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its character, I'm merely one of those people that fell in love with a fandom and are exploring their creativity level. However, do give thanks and credit to Shinshiro Watanabe and the Sunrise Animation Staff for the legacy they have created through Cowboy Bebop.

**Disclaimer:** I had to give the song I used in this chapter its own little disclaimer because this song started everything, story wise. The song "Crazy," from which this fic is titled, is written by Willie Nelson and performed by Patsy cline. And while I am into metal and such, I have to admit – this song rocks!

Anyway, I'm back at the not-so-comfy-chairs of the library…though I have to say, I think I'm getting used to them by now. O.O

This chapter is over 9,000 words long, so get comfortable…

_On with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

The sun wasn't coming out. Or at least, Faye failed to see anything through the thick curtain of clouds. She stared intently at the horizon hoping to catch a glimpse of pink or blue as the sun rose, but it was useless. It was well past the time for the sun to rise and all she could see was the grey and white smoke of her lit cigarette match the sky. She looked down at the streets from the rooftop of an abandoned building. The streets were crowded. Everyone looked completely unaware of the cloudy sky or the warm wind blowing.

It was very hot actually. It was humid and the moisture in the air stuck to her skin like glue. She tried to wipe the sweat away from her, but the sticky sensation lingered on her skin. She took one last smoke from the cigarette and let the rest of it fall onto the rooftop were it continued to burn. She started walking to the stairs when she spotted her reflection on a rusted, chrome exhaust pipe. She took another look around the roof. There were small piles of miscellaneous objects lying around. The only thing they all had in common was that they reflected the same disappointing image. She kicked the pipe away from her path. It scraped against the rooftop. Finally stopped once it clanked against an old radiator. She stopped and gazed at herself through the corroded metal.

When she'd left the Bebop, she'd been in such a hurry she didn't worry about her appearance. She had found her clothes already washed and left in the dryer but since she didn't have a 'decent' shirt, she had to borrow one. She'd tried wearing one of Ed's but the ones she found fit her extremely tight around the chest. The answer to her problem wasn't that hard at the time. She just took one of Spike's. But now that she paid attention, it didn't fit her well either. Her black bra showed through the yellow fabric as well. She sighed. Until now, she hadn't realized that at some point wearing the uncomfortable thing had become usual. She rolled the sleeves of the yellow shirt and tried to fix the neck so it wouldn't reveal so much of her bruised skin. She tied the bottom of it so as to make it look shorter, but she made sure that her skin, as well as her gun, remained hidden. She smirked and for a second she thought she saw Spike reflected against the surface of the forgotten items. She blinked the image away and she saw herself again, wearing no makeup and a pair of sneakers. She didn't like that the scrapes on her legs were visible either. She averted her eyes from her body and fixed her hair on the reflection of a broken mirror. She sighed heavily and opened the door to the stairs.

As she walked down, her skin crawled from the sudden change of climate. Inside, there was no wind. It felt cold, but still humid. Faye tried to rub the goose bumps away from her arms. However, her mind had already forgotten about the weather. Now she was focused on something else. She thought that maybe she could buy a few things. She didn't need that much; just some lipstick, hosiery, and different shoes. Just a few things that would make her feel a little better. She'd taken one of Spike's cards, so money was no problem. Besides, he should have known better than to let her in his room with all of his things just setting on the bed side table. When she had first picked it up, it wasn't to spite him necessarily; rather, she'd already planned on leaving the Bebop. The only reason she'd run there to begin with was because at the time she felt so volatile and vulnerable. That was over. Now she knew exactly what she wanted.

She took the card out and flipped it back and forth. If she used it, Spike would know where she was, because sooner or later he'd be bound to realize she'd taken it. Faye took one more stair as she reached the bottom of the staircase. She sat down on the last step. Using the card wouldn't make any difference, even if she could be tracked through the purchases. He wouldn't come to try and find her. Would he? And if she used it, did that mean she wanted him to come looking for her. Faye laughed at herself. Yes, of course she wanted him to come for her. To show that, at the very least, he cared a little. A knot was forming on her throat. Faye swallowed hard and the knot disappeared. She tried to imagine what things would have been like if she'd chased after him so long ago. But she knew something about thinking of the past. It was useless.

Faye rose to her feet. She was going to buy what she wanted, regardless of Spike. Ed's shoes, though still new, didn't fit her well and it felt odd walking in them. When the time came, she wanted to be able to move. She looked out of the glassless window from which she had entered. She needed to get out in the open and have Stephen find her. Faye knew that there would be no way for her to find him first. She climbed out of the window and seamlessly joined the rest of the pedestrians as they walked the streets.

The first thing she needed was shoes. She entered the very first store she saw and started roaming around. She found a pair of black ankle high boots with a bit of a heel. Once she tried them on and found them to be quite well suited for her, she didn't bother anymore and decided to buy them. When she tried to make the transaction, it failed. She was sure she still remembered the pin number Spike always used. But it didn't work. Faye closed her eyes and tried to think of whether or not she'd used the correct one. The girl from across the counter held the shoebox firmly in her hands and waited with a strained smile as Faye tried it again. The attempt was no different. Faye sighed. She gave up hope of getting to buy anything.

"Meam, would you like to move aside until you get things in order, there are a few more customers waiting," the cashier said nicely, though her eyes clearly revealed her annoyance.

But Faye wasn't paying attention. She was randomly choosing numbers. Five, three, nine, eight. "Incorrect Pin Number." Seven, six, two, nine. "Incorrect Pin Number." Two, seven, four, six. "Incorrect Pin Number." Faye bit her lower lip. She would give it only one more try. Three. Two, nine. Three. Three small periods flashed on the screen, just as they had in her previous attempts. Faye prayed it was right. Then the screen changed. Her breath escaped her as she read, "Authorized."

"I'll put the receipt in the bag," the lady said hurriedly. She handed the bag to Faye and rolled her eyes shortly after saying, "Thank you come again."

Faye left the store almost ecstatic. She moved from store to store as she continued to make purchases. She bought makeup, a pair of tight-highs and some suspenders to keep them from sliding, a box of cigarettes and a good lighter. She went into the bathroom of a convenience store and put everything on. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked much better now. Except the bruises. She didn't like that. Faye opened the neck of the shirt and covered the visible purple spots with makeup. The change was so drastic. It made her feel so much better just to have those marks of abuse on her skin gone. She buttoned the shirt up again, but not as much as before.

She left the store and strode along the streets with ease. As she walked, she spotted a trash receptacle hidden in the alleys. She threw away all of the empty bags and the sneakers. And though she hesitated for a while, she also left the rest of the makeup. She didn't know what the chances were that she would use it again. Faye continued to walk aimlessly until she came to a small park in the middle of the city. She found a bench and sat down to rest.

Three, two, nine, three. What was so special about that number? She knew that Spike wasn't the kind of person who simply used random numbers. She'd realized it when she caught sight of his pin number for the first time. Seven, six, seven, three. Once she tried to find a way to remember it, she'd discovered Spike's secret. He didn't see numbers. He saw letters. Seven, six, seven, three. Rose.

She sighed and stretched her body while she was still sitting down. It was getting late. She worried now that it would take her longer than she had expected for Stephen and the casino to find her. She considered her options. She could either wait for her to find them or she could walk to the steps of their doors. But if she chose the second option, they would definitely know she was up to something. She couldn't afford them to have that advantage. Faye rose to her feet. They would expect her to be hiding. She needed to go to the outskirts of the city.

She found a cab and used Spike's card one last time. The streets started to slowly change and after several minutes, it was clear she was where she needed to be. She stepped out of the taxi and she could immediately feel the difference. It was almost nighttime. The street lights flickered on and off. Some didn't even light up at all. As soon as she closed the door behind her, the taxi drove off quickly.

Faye walked on the empty sidewalk. Her new shoes created a rhythmic echo as she travelled the cracked concrete. A few people passed her by. Though she'd managed to remain calm, her heart was beating fast and she could hear it pounding in her ears. She found another broken down building. She was cautious. She entered it with her gun poised. She didn't need to be killed before she could be found by Stephen. But it was empty. She looked through the rooms of the three stories and found nothing. It was a nice hiding place. It seemed to be a small, abandoned hotel.

She sat down in the corner of one of the rooms of the topmost floor. She pulled her legs in and rested her head against them. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. All she could do now was wait.

**II-II II-II II-II**

Faye heard something. Her eyes snapped open. She looked around the room. Through the window she could see the stars already out. It was cold. Her breathing stopped. She heard the same noise. And then, to her surprise; she heard Charles. She took a deep breath. Her skin crawled. Her body felt empty. She rested her head on her knees again. No one…not anybody… could. Should. Treat someone. Just. Like they treated had her.

Stephen had to know that much.

Her lips trembled. She bit her lower lip to stop. She tried to slow her breathing down. It became a series of short, shallow breaths. She lifted her hand. It was shaking. She barely ran her fingers across her neck and felt the pain as she touched the bruised spots. Faye felt her blood boiling so bad that her skin itched. She wanted to get up and do something. She felt all the hate and anger burning inside of her.

She was going to kill Zeus.

Then all her fear was gone. Her breathing became normal again. And the thought of Death didn't bother her anymore. She closed her eyes and pretended she didn't hear the steps coming, pretended she was asleep.

There were several men whispering outside the door of the room. She heard them counting. One. Two. Three. The door was kicked down. It cracked and fell and lifted the dust from the floor. Some of the wood pieces flew across the room. Faye lifted her head up and pretended to be dislocated. She glanced at them but made sure that her face didn't display any sign of vengeance. Rather, she wore a mask of fear. She glanced at their faces. She didn't see either Charles or Stephen. One man walked closer to her. His gun was directly pointed at her. He placed it on her head. Faye let a small cry escape her. Someone laughed.

"I'll call the boss. He'd get a kick of this," the man standing closest to the door said.

'Don't be stupid," the man by Faye said and he pushed the gun against her skull. Faye's body shook and she made tears brim from her eyes. The same man laughed again. "Didn't Zeus tell you? Johnny boy, he's paying us. Not the boss. We get extra cash for reporting to him. Besides that boss of yours, that son-of-a-bitch, is as good as dead."

"Don't joke around like that Stan," the young man said.

"That's right Johnny," the man across the room said still laughing. "Your boss is as good as dead. Why do you think Noah is here? You know he works for no one other than Lady Avarice. Isn't that right, Noah?"

"My name is not Noah," the man said with a distinctive accent. "It is Noe."

"Noe, Noah. Maria, Mary. Rosa, Rose. What difference does it make? You're still here for the money."

"How would you know? I have never talked to you about anything but my name---"

"Shut the hell up!" Stan said. "Especially you Francis. Stop laughing and call Zeus. And better do it before Charles get's back to this floor. That idiot always screws things up."

"I'm gonna kill him," Johnny said coldly before leaving the room.

"Bastard! Don't go around shooting people 'cause it's fun!" Stan yelled after him.

"I didn't say I'd kill him now," Johnny responded as he continued out of the room.

Faye's body continued to tremble. Her vision was a little blurry from the tears rolling across her eyes. She could see Noe leaning on the corner opposite the room. His suit was black and dusted. His hair was long and braided. He was smoking. She could see Johnny leaning against the frame of the door. His blonde hair was cut short and slicked back. Francis dialed his communicator and listened for the ringing. She couldn't see his eyes. The gleam of his glasses kept them hidden. Faye tried to see the face of the last man but she didn't dare to move.

"Get up," Stan said. Faye jolted. Francis laughed again. She slowly rose to her feet. "Are you sure this is her?"

"How am I supposed to know? We brought Charles here to do that."

"Idiot, don't call the boss first. Get that bastard in here." No one moved.

"Fine, I'll go get him." Johnny said annoyed. His steps slowly died away.

No one moved for several minutes. Faye felt the eyes of Stan and Francis bore into her. She wrapped her arms in front of her chest. She felt like they could see right through her clothes.

"We need to search her," Stan finally said.

"I'll do it!" Francis said quickly. He walked around her and placed his hands on her hips. Faye grimaced as his hand slid down her legs. She wanted to kick him so badly.

"That's not her," someone said quickly.

She looked up. Charles was standing just outside the doorway. His eyes looked extremely tired. His hair was a mess. It was not at all like the Charles that Faye had known. Behind him, Johnny pulled out his gun. He shoved Charles into the room he took the gun and handed it to him.

"Kill her," Johnny said.

"What for?" Charles said pushing the gun away. He was too easy to read. "She's not the one."

"Are you sure you don't wanna take a closer look?" Johnny insisted as he pushed Charles right against Faye.

"Watch it, man!" Francis said. "Can't ya see I'm right behind her?"

"Like you don't want to be," Johnny answered.

He pushed Charles against Faye again. His body lurched forward and, though, he tried to stop himself, he still bumped against her. His head landed just on her shoulder. Faye's eyes were large. She hadn't expected this to happen. His breathing was heavy on her shoulder, and under it, Faye swore she heard him say 'sorry.' Johnny pulled Charles by the hair and made him take a step back.

"You're going to try and make me believe this is not her. 'Cause I could have sworn you whispered her name right before shouting it wasn't her."

"I..I–I…said –"

"Faye. That's what you said. And she's it, isn't she?"

"No. No that's not her."

Faye looked back and forth between them. Then she felt Francis' hands travelling up her body. She contorted in disgust. His hands ran across her chest. Then he stopped. He walked in front of her and opened one of the shirt pockets. He pulled out Spike's card.

"Who the hell is Spike Spiegel?"

"SHUT UP!" Johnny shouted. He grasped Charles by the chin and made him turn to see Faye. "Tell me truth. Is she the woman we're looking for?"

Charles looked at Faye and finally said, "No, that's not her."

"Okay men," Johnny said releasing Charles. "Good job Charles." He patted him in the back, lifted the gun away from his hands, and shot him.

Faye felt the warm blood trickle down her body and land between her lips.

"Goddammit! I told you not to kill him," Stan shouted.

Johnny chuckled. "I called the boss earlier."

"We were supposed to report to Zeus," Francis added.

"I know. He raised my wages, he's my boss now. He's the one who told me to kill him, so if you have anything against it, call him so I can kill you too."

"Hey, boss's orders," Francis said, "just making sure. But how are we gonna know this is her?"

"Easy, Charles wouldn't admit to it," he said and continued in a mock voice, "she was his friend."

Faye couldn't move. She didn't even dare look at her feet and see Charles' body. Was he the only person that didn't want to kill her? She tasted his blood in her mouth and felt the smaller droplets of blood drying onto her skin. She couldn't breathe well.

"Now," Johnny added. "What's this about Tike Espino?" He reached out his hand and Francis handed him the card. Faye forced her eyes away from Charles. "It sounds familiar."

"He is a bounty hunter," Noe spoke from the corner of the room. "A good one at that. Caught my step-brother about six years ago. And Jason Cougar. But that is only a few."

"He didn't catch Cougar!" Stan said. "He's still out there."

"No."

"But he was one of the best mass murders. Not even the government's agents could catch him. Cougar is alive."

"No," Noe insisted. "Cougar has not been around for over six years. But he was a tactical genius and a lot of his bombs still are at work. That is his legacy…But this Spiegel. I have not heard of him for the longest time."

Johnny started walking out of the door, everyone followed after. Stan held Faye by the arm; his gun was still pointed towards her head. Faye's heart was beating fast. They had been so distracted; they forgot to check her back, right where her gun was. But now that they were talking about Spike, she didn't know what she could say. Noe and Stan were still talking.

"And all this time I thought the Cougar was still alive. Damn it…what if this Spiegel comes to try and get her."

Johnny laughed. "Don't be stupid. If he's really still around, who would blame him for trying to find a good night's play? This is a hotel, even if it's falling apart. But, hey, all he needed was a bed and a woman right? Besides, he wouldn't have left her here to begin with if he cared."

She didn't think that at a time when she was in danger of death, she'd be thinking about defending Spike. But all the things that Johnny said made her feel so angered. Spike was nothing like that…That's why he'd stayed so loyal to Julia in the past…She licked her lips and remembered when they had kissed. That's why, back then, he hadn't forced himself on her even if he had the strength to do it.

"So why does she have the card?" Francis asked.

"Bitch, probably stole it," Stan said.

"Who cares?" Johnny said walking ahead. "We got the girl and tomorrow we get paid." He pointed to Noe, who followed after him.

A few minutes after Johnny had left; they were finally outside of the building. The wind was blowing, but it was only a gentle breeze. There stars were beautiful. A black car was already waiting. Johnny was in the front passenger's seat and Noe was on the driver's seat.

"Hurry up already," Johnny said annoyed as he lit a cigarette.

Stand shoved Faye to make her walk faster. He turned to Francis and said, "I sure as hell don't wanna piss that motherfucker off."

**II-II II-II II-II**

She was alone. Her gun had been taken from her. Johnny had 'searched' her. There were empty wood and cardboard boxes and the walls were made of metal. She had been blindfolded as soon as she'd gotten into the car. She had no idea where she was. She walked around the small room and picked up the boxes to try and figure something out. Most of the writing was hard to make out, but she was able to decipher the word 'frozen' from three of the boxes, which meant she was probably stuck inside a broken fridge. She sat down again. What had she gotten herself into?

Faye was surprised though. She'd always thought that she would lose her mind if something like this happened to her. But apparently she was wrong. She was much calmer than she had expected. She didn't care about anything else right now other than the fact that she wanted to kill Stephen so badly. She didn't care if she didn't see the Bebop again. Spike included. She didn't care if she died. She didn't care at all. Maybe she'd repent while she died. But she wouldn't worry about that until she felt her body going numb. She ran her hands through her face and peeled away the dried up blood. Poor Charles. He should have found a different job; he would have made an excellent teacher.

The door of the room was opened. It was Johnny. He motioned her to stand up and to walk closer to him. Faye followed suit. Now that she thought about it, she really wanted to kill him too. But did that make her any better than him? She walked pretending to not want to get any nearer to him, but once she was near, he grasped her arm and twisted it behind her. She groaned in pain. He chuckled. He pushed her forward, with the gun already placed behind her head. If anything, now that she was out of the small room, she was able to make out what sort of location she was in. From the look of it, it was a sort of factory or warehouse.

The walls were mostly made of metal. There were a lot of pulleys and large crates. They passed through a room full of metal machines that had begun to rust. And it didn't change much. The other room looked just about the same. Then, they arrived at a door where Francis and Stan were keeping guard.

Johnny looked around, "Hey, guys, look who's here to see the boss". Francis laughed. "I need a smoke, where's Noah?"

"That bastard left already," Stan answered. "As soon as the boss paid him he left saying something about a fucking hospital."

"Damn…Francis go buy some smokes?"

"No way man," Francis said taking a step back, "I saw one of Mr. Luther's car's roaming around outside. If he finds out what we're doing, we'll get killed."

"Really," Johnny said amused. "I wonder if he could pay more."

Francis laughed. "You kidding me, the guy is looking for Zeus like crazy. And you wanna know why? Well, Zeus tricked him into signing some papers giving him the rights to the casino. But even then, Mr. Luther has a loyal bunch of bastards who don't take this sort of stuff too well."

"Zeus owns the casino…Call Chris, and Finch, and Hunter, and Marie…no…don't call her call Edie and Flora….and Serj. Tell them to bring their crew. If Luther is looking for us, we better get ready."

"You just want to kill someone, don't you?" Stan said.

"That's the fun of life, isn't it? Now open the door and stop wasting time."

Stan reached for the door but it opened before he'd even touched it. The room was dark. Faye saw a hand with a few bandages across it. And then she saw him. Stephen stepped out. His head was wrapped. She wanted to lunge towards him and tear his eyes out, but she knew that would be useless. Her heart picked up momentum. She felt the adrenaline pumping through her. And she couldn't do anything. Not now.

"That's what I like about you Johnny," Stephen said, "But you have to include Marie, she may have a brat to take care of, but she doesn't like to feel left out of this sort of thing."

"Yes sir," Johnny answered.

Stephen looked at Faye and smiled. "I can take care of this now." He extended her arm to reach for her. Faye saw his hand getting closer to her. This was perfect. She lifted her free hand. She managed to get it to shake a little and placed it over his. Stephen jolted back. Everyone else appeared shocked. Johnny shoved her towards Stephen who did nothing but stare at her in confusion. His eyebrows knitted together. Then his expression changed again into the harsh face of Zeus. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her inside. She fell on the ground. Its grainy texture ripped her skin. She felt the left part of her body sting.

"Hello sweetheart," he said with a grin of malice across his face. "Did you miss me?"

"I…" she began with hesitation. "Stephen–"

"Don't call me that!" he shouted. "I'm not Stephen. I'm Zeus."

Faye picked herself off of the ground and made her eyes water. "I…I."

"What! You what!" he shouted in frustration. He picked her up from the ground and brought her face close to his.

Faye stared at his eyes. Her heart was beating so fast. His breath was hot. His eyes were piercing. She looked away from him and closed her eyes for a second. He shook her and grabbed her chin. He held her tightly until she finally opened her eyes again.

"You should know by now that I don't like to be fooled around with," he said overtly calm.

Faye let the tears run down her cheeks. She covered her eyes and tried to pry herself away from Stephen's grasp. He released her and she fell heavily on the ground. He let her cry there for a few seconds. Faye kept her hands over her face. She whispered several words into her hands. Stephen kneeled down closer to her. His voice was still very forceful when he spoke, though he too was whispering.

"I can't hear you," he took a firm hold of her hands and removed them from her face.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Faye said, her voice breaking.

"Are you begging me not to kill you?" He said sweetly. "Because I still am. I haven't forgotten about it. Especially with this on my head."

"Then what difference would it make if I told you anything now," She wiped the tears off of her face.

"Well, that's partly true," he said casually. "Get up…I said to get up."

Faye took her time as she rose to her feet. The tears were still flowing freely. She couldn't believe how easy it was to cry. Her throat even felt knotted. It was almost as if all the hatred she felt inside of her was crushing her heart and the only way that it found out of her body was trough tears.

Stephen looked at her almost as if she was a spider who'd been stepped on and he smiled. "You're so pretty."

"Don't tell me something like that…don't be nice to me," Faye said.

"Why? Does it bother you because I'll kill you anyway?" Stephen said amused.

Faye looked up into his eyes. She took a deep breath and looked away again. She bit her lower lip. Could she say it? "No," she began as she slowly turned to face him again. "I…it bothers me be-because. Because—"

"Because what?" Stephen said irritated.

Faye stared at his eyes and softened her expression. She let the tears roll down again. She hesitated one last time. "Because I…" Faye felt the words caught in her throat. She needed to say it. That was the only way she could get close to him. She cleared her throat and tried again. She failed and cursed at herself.

Stephen got closer to her, the curiosity clearly written on his face. Faye looked straight into his eyes. And knowing it was all a lie and devoid of meaning, she finally spoke.

"Because…I love you," she said softly.

She looked down afterwards and closed her eyes. She heard Stephen stepping away from her. Faye felt so nervous but she continued to speak. "Last time I saw you. You looked so nervous…I---I thought that you were finally going to tell me something." She wiped her eyes and looked at Stephen. "Then I was so happy and nervous I couldn't even eat."

"Shut up." He said.

"I thought. I thought. That if I could be with you. I didn't need to be with any of the other guys Mr. Luther forced me to be with. I thought I was going to be with only you. And then…I don't know what went wrong…You acted so differently."

He laughed, but it sounded nervous. "Do you think I'll buy that?"

"It doesn't matter," Faye said. "I thought that maybe you'd been drinking too much or maybe you'd gotten drugged. I tried not to hurt you. But then you told me you'd kill me… I was so scared...What was I supposed to do!"

"Die," he said calmly. "Death solves everyone's problems." He took a cigarette and lit it.

Faye chuckled with her eyes still wet. "I used to think you looked so cool when you smoked. So even if I'd quit, it was enough for me to watch you."

"I hope you know that knowing this won't change a th–" Gunshots blared outside. "Damn it." He threw the cigarette to the ground. "Don't move."

He walked to the door. Faye watched him walk away and noticed that under his coat there was a gun hidden on his back. He left the room. Faye looked around. The room wasn't too big. The floor had the same rough texture throughout. There was a bookcase on one of the sides with a few papers and boxes. There was another door on the opposite side of the room. She ran to it and tried to pry it open. It was locked. She moved back to where she had been and noticed something different. From behind the bookcase, there was some sort of window. She made it back just in time. The door opened and Stephen stepped back in.

He looked at her surprised to find her in the same spot. "Good girl." He said. Three other shots were heard. He sighed in annoyance and walked to a desk in the corner of the room. He opened a drawer up and pulled out a communicator.

"Jesse?...Yeah…No we're doing good….Nah, just a car Luther sent that was a bit of a bother…No I think Johnny got them already…Yes, Johnny…Anyway, get your ass going around town and get rid of Luther's maggots…Of course I'll pay you…Yes, have a good night."

He looked at Faye. "You are one of the strangest women I've met sweetheart…Sing. I haven't heard you swing in the longest time."

"I–"

"And I want it to be a good song. And do it like if you were singing it at the casino."

Faye felt like a puppet. But she needed to get close to him. She cleared her throat. What song could she sing? Any song would have been useless unless she could get close to him. And though it was only for his twisted amusement, she began to sing.

"_Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely_

_I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue."_

"That's not how you usually sing," he interrupted. "Do it right."

Faye tried to not reveal her displeasure. He'd only heard her sing while her head was filled with thoughts of Spike. She didn't want to think about him now. It was bound to make things even more difficult for her. And then she felt so incredibly sad. She'd never get to tell him anything. She'd never get to know what had been in his head all of this time. She felt so weak again…so heartbroken.

"_I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted_

_And then someday you'd leave me for somebody new_

_Worry, why do I let myself worry?_

_Wondering what in the world did I do_?"

He stared at her. He didn't seem satisfied still. She began moving her body like she usually did when she was on the stage. Stephen leaned against the desk and smiled.

"_Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you_

_I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying_

_And I'm crazy for loving you_"

She'd heard that people did stupid things when they were in love. But that wasn't the truth. People in love did crazy things. But they were stupid for ever falling in love.

Faye felt so lonely. She felt just like when Spike left. It was almost like the same feelings were rushing through her. She wondered about him. Was he up yet? Was he still in his bed or was he lying down in the yellow couch of the living room? And then her body felt so weak.

Maybe it was better to die. Better to not have to deal with anything. Better to never know and face the truth. Better than having to keep feeling all these useless things that had turned her life into torture.

She walked closer to Stephen and extended her arm towards him. It would be okay to die. Stephen took a hold of her hand and placed it on his face. But if anyone was going to decide her death, it was going to be her. She would pull the trigger.

"_Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you_"

He smiled as he pulled Faye closer to him. Faye looked at him. When would he kill her? Her voice became lower. She should have never tried to get so close to Spike. It was all her fault she'd become so weak.

"_I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying_"

Stephen pulled her closer and her voice diminished into a whisper. There were more shots heard outside but Stephen didn't seem affected by it. She smiled a little, Spike was right. She was crazy.

"_And I'm crazy for loving you_."

She didn't know why, but Stephen wrapped his arms around her. It was so unlike before. It was almost as if he never wanted her to go anywhere. He wanted to be with no one else but her. Faye's heart felt so heavy. She'd wanted Spike to hold her like that. She closed her eyes and tried to keep herself under control. Stephen brought their lips together. He kissed her and Faye hated that the last person she'd kiss would be him. He appeared completely unaware of the shots being fired outside. Or the screams that were slowly growing.

Faye started to lose power over her anger. She remembered all of the things that he'd put her through. She hated him so much. She was growing desperate. But even as close as they were, she couldn't get her hands on the weapon on his back. He had a hold of her hands right on his chest.

Whether he wanted to kill her or not, one thing appeared obvious, he wanted to have her at least once. Faye stopped struggling. If that was the only way to get her hands on a weapon, she didn't care. And then, one of his hands moved to the neck of her shirt. He smiled a little as she kissed him and wrapped her free arm over his neck. She felt him tugging at the buttons of Spike's shirt, until one by one they started coming undone.

"Zeus!" Someone shouted from outside the door. They knocked on it several times. "There are more of Luther's men coming! Jess said they're getting ready. He had to hide after killing only twelve men."

Stephen stopped. Faye's heart dropped. She kept her eyes closed, hoping to not give herself away. That was the only chance she had to kill him. She needed to find a way to keep Stephen distracted from what was going outside.

"Take care of it," he shouted back. His arms were still wrapped around Faye.

"There may be too many." Faye could make the voice out this time. It was Johnny.

"You know you like to kill more than I do. Take care of it." Then the knocking stopped and the gunshots were heard again.

Stephen looked at the door and his arms began to leave her body. Faye felt his hand run across her chest and she intentionally moaned. She saw Stephen take one more look at the door. He looked back at her. She pretended to be embarrassed. He grabbed her again and put her back to the desk. He'd seemed to have forgotten what was going on outside and continued kissing and touching her. Faye slowly wrapped herself around him, being careful to not make it obvious that she wanted to get her hands on the weapon. It would be even more difficult to get her hands under the coat. She tried to move her hand inside his coat, but Stephen caught it and placed it around his neck. The gunshots started getting louder and louder. There was a loud sound outside.

Faye had been so distracted trying to get the gun that she forgot he always carried a knife. But once she realized it was too late. She felt the shirt falling off of her shoulders and then a stinging pain. She felt a warm liquid touching her skin. So, he did plan on hurting her after all.

"Don't," she said heaving.

"Stephen likes to do this," he said. "I'm not Zeus yet."

She felt the cuts growing, but they weren't extremely deep. They were only deep enough to bleed. But now that her body was covered in blood, he seemed even more urgent. He even licked the blood from the wounds.

Her body hurt so much. She didn't know how much of it she could take. She didn't know when Stephen would decide to become Zeus. She struggled anytime he wounded her, but finally managed to get her hands under his coat. He felt her hand on his back and he stopped. He looked at her. Faye's hand was wrapped around the gun now and she'd managed to get her finger around the trigger. His eyes were cold and hard on her.

"Don't you dare," he said breathing heavily. He moved the knife a little. Faye responded by pulling the gun out.

Her breaths were short. She had the gun pointed right at his spine, but he had the knife close to her neck. The sound outside grew louder but then slowly died away. It was almost quiet, but there were several shots still being fired. Some of the bullets could be heard hitting the wall.

"You don't want to do that," he said sharply.

"Why," she whispered.

"I love you."

Faye heard the words coming from his lips. She didn't want to hear that from someone who'd hurt her. Someone who only considered themselves and not her. Someone who pretended to love her. If Stephen had truly loved all the women he'd killed, who would have never hurt them to begin with. What Stephen was after was not love, he was chasing revenge and anger and hate. She had chased him for the same reasons.

She felt the blade touching her skin. Faye gripped the warm gun more securely. Her body was so exhausted. Her skin was dripping with blood and the joints of her shoulders ached from being forced to walk. She hadn't eaten anything in a long time. Or slept for that matter. She hated feeling so weak.

Faye shoved him off of her. The knife nicked the bottom of her chin. He fell on the ground and the knife flew out of his hand. She wasn't going to shoot his back. He scrambled on the floor as he reached for the knife. Faye watched him. She held the gun pointed directly at him. Then she noticed one of the drawers of the desk was partly open. She walked around and opened it up. There were a few papers but underneath them, she found her gun and communicator. She picked the gun up and also pointed it at him. Stephen sat on the ground. His eyes were big and his body was shaking. The blade of the knife clanked against the floor as his hand shook.

Faye's heart was beating fast. The blood rushed through her body. Her muscles felt tight and her body felt stiff. Her hands were slightly shaking. She felt euphoric.

She smiled and gently said. "I love you too."

Then she pulled the triggers.

The loud shots were heard and once the echo died down. Faye couldn't hear anything outside. She stared at the guns in her hands. She looked at Stephen. His body was limp. There were two bullet holes in the middle of his forehead and the red blood ran down his face. He was smiling. Faye grimaced. What could have made him smile? Was it finally getting rid of his problems. She stared at the guns. Maybe she could die smiling too.

She heard a few more shots outside. He heard someone trying to pry the door open. More shots. Faye could see the dust from the door's hinges. It was bound to come down sooner or later. She instinctively pointed the guns at the door. She looked at them again. She could kill herself now and not have to deal with anything else. She hesitated. She didn't think she could do it. She hadn't been able to do it in so many years.

A bolt of pain ran down her right arm and she pulled the trigger before the gun slipped out of her hand. It clanked to the ground. Someone kicked the door. She stepped back waiting for the door to fall. The bottom hinge of the door came undone, but the top one still kept the door closed. Faye's heart was beating fast. If she let herself get killed like this, she'd be just as inconsiderate of others as Spike had been in the past. She shot the hinge of the door. As it fell, she was ready to shoot again but her heart stopped and the other gun also fell to the ground.

"Nice shirt," Spike said.

Faye stuttered to try and say something. But in the end, she couldn't find anything. She sighed in annoyance and bent to the ground to pick up the guns. Her eyes were still focused on Spike. She blinked and for the first time noticed his shirt.

"Pink doesn't suit you," she said and she felt incredibly relieved.

"Why don't you tell that to Ed?" he said walking towards Stephen. He faced him, but now his back was to her. "So this is the guy."

"Yeah," she answered. Then she remembered the new cuts he'd made on her skin. She looked at herself and closed the shirt. The fabric began growing red as the spots of blood came through the fabric.

She heard a shot and she looked up at Spike. He'd shot Stephen.

"Hurry up," Spike said. "We gotta leave before more people get here. Both sides have help coming to them. And as far as we're concerned, we're pretty much the only backup we have."

Faye's heart dropped. "Did something happen to Ed and Jet?"

"No. But someone did tell your boyfriend here that they'd seen you going into the Bebop. They're on their way to earth now."

Faye picked up her communicator from the desk. "Okay, let's go."

They walked out of the room cautiously. There appeared to be no one outside. They continued walking but just as Faye saw the exit, she heard the gun being fired. Spike pulled her towards him and the bullet passed behind her.

"Damn, they're a lot quicker than I expected." Faye stared at the pink of Spike's shirt. "C'mon." He said pulling her behind some crates. He shot a few bullets and smirked. "Let's go." He said leading Faye out.

There were more bullets being fired behind them. "That blonde guy has a really good aim," Spike said as they ducked jet again.

Faye pulled out her gun and pointed it towards Johnny. She pulled the trigger, aiming straight at his heart. But he managed to dodge it. Spike tugged her hand and nodded to the exit. He released his grip on Faye's hand. She felt his fingers sliding off of her hand and she pulled her hand away from him. He ran only a step in front of her as they moved hiding behind wooden boxes and machinery. Someone fired a gun. They heard some voices behind them.

"They spotted us," Faye said.

"We'll be alright if we hurry out of here," Spike said. "The ship is only a block away."

But the fire opened again. Faye jumped out from the crate and shot at several people. Then , she rushed as she hid behind another crate.

"Idiot," Spike said. "Don't get so far away."

Faye rolled her eyes at him. She ran from behind the boxes and shot someone else. She stood up and took a woman down before crouching besides Spike. "Happy?"

"The exit is over there." he said pointing. Someone fired again and the bullet hit the corner of the crate.

"Hurry up," Faye said as she ran ahead of him. She smiled. It was kind of fun being so reckless. She heard Spike right behind her. They ran until they had reached the exit. Spike tugged her arm and pointed her in the correct direction.

"We're almost there," he said after a while. He ran ahead of her and within a few seconds Faye could see the ship. Spike climbed in and got the engine started. Faye was close behind him. The ship was cramped and she wasn't sure on exactly where to be. She stood behind the seat, leaning over a little, so as to fit when the cover closed.

Spike got the ship to take off, but there were bullets still being fired. They avoided them and then everything was calm. Faye sighed as she heard the last bullet hit. The adrenaline disappeared almost instantly from her body. She folded her arms across the back of the seat and rested her hand on them. She was so exhausted but so happy. It was one of the most incredible feelings. She laughed a little as she recalled everything. She was very lucky to still be alive.

"You shouldn't be laughing," Spike said.

She was a little surprised. "Why not?"

"Have you seen yourself?" he said.

"More or less," she responded. "But I did kill him. So I'm happy. I can claim the bounty too. And seeing as how I'm the one to actually shoot him, I get most of it."

He smirked. "Sorry to inform you, but the bounty was cancelled."

"What!"

"It was called off the morning you left. You don't get anything out of this."

She laid her head down on her hands. It was never like she was trying to kill him for the money. And she smiled. She got so much more out of it than Spike probably knew.

"Someone is following us," Spike said quickly. "Hang on." He adjusted the weapons of the ship. Moved to the left in a rush as he dodged a missile. Faye couldn't get a grip of the back of the seat and her head hit the shell.

"Are you trying to kill me!" She said offended.

Spike was laughing. "I did tell you to hang on."

"It's not like I didn't try. But it's pretty much useless to try and–"

"Hang on," he said quickly as he shifted the ship again. Faye clutched her arms around the seat and his waist. It wasn't as bad, but she still managed to bump herself against the side. Spike grunted. "Now who's trying to kill who?"

"I had to hang on to something."

"I can't aim at this guy with you moving everywhere."

Then he dodged another. But this time, he had to make the ship rotate. Faye held on tightly, but she could tell she was taking the air out of Spike.

"Damn it, this isn't working." He looked at the other ship then he looked at Faye. "I can't lose him with you trying to kill me."

They continued to be chased. Faye tried not to grip too tightly, but either way she managed to hurt Spike a little. "Are you stupid?" She said frustrated after Spike had rotated the ship yet again.

He looked at the controls and made several adjustments. "Crazy maybe, but not stupid…Let's try something." He pulled her hands away from his waist. Faye's eyes grew in concern. She'd be bumping against everything now. But then something unexpected happened. Spike moved her closer to him and made her sit on his lap. "Hold on under my arms."

He didn't even wait for her to respond, surprised as she was. He began to rotate the ship again. Faye put her arms around him in a hurry. Just as the ship turned, she held on tightly and felt the back of the seat against her hands. It made perfect sense now that she thought about it. This way, she wasn't putting the pressure on Spike's abdomen, but on the back of the chair.

He looked at the controls again. "Get ready, I'm going to fire."

Faye clenched her teeth. If he was going to fire, which meant he had to maneuver his ship behind the other one. She held on tightly. Her head was right against his chest. She could hear his heart beat. She felt the ship moving and her arms shifted closer to his shoulders. She heard him grunt as the pressure on his joints grew. But she couldn't let go. If she did, she would probably manage to make him lose control of the ship. Just as the maneuver was about to end, Faye felt one of his arms wrap around her waist and keep her from sliding anymore. As soon as they'd completely turned, his hand went back to the controls and he fired. Faye took her face away from Spike's chest. She saw the missile hit the back of the ship, but it wasn't dead on. Still, it swerved and the pilot seemed to be losing control.

Spike adjusted the controls again and they flew away quickly. Faye remained sitting on his lap. She tried not to keep their bodies too close, but it was pretty much impossible. She looked up at Spike. He was smiling.

"What are you smiling about?" She said trying to add more distance in between them.

"That was that blonde dude, on the ship, I mean. He'd shot me and managed to nick my left arm. I guess he just wasn't as good with a ship."

"You shouldn't be bragging. It's not like you got him."

"Not immediately, but I hit the fuel tank. It'll explode before he gets the chance to get anywhere."

"That would be great. Especially since he killed Charles," Faye said.

"Who's Charles?" Spike asked.

"Just someone I knew," she said.

"That's some answer," He replied absently.

Then there appeared to be nothing else to talk about. It was quiet and the humming o f the engine was making Faye tired. She yawned. She felt so tired. It was incredible that she'd been able to stay awake for so long. She covered her mouth as she yawned again. She blinked a lot trying to keep herself up.

"If you keep doing that, you're going to make me tired," Spike said. "If you need to sleep just do it."

"No, just talk to me about something. I can stay awake," she said. But in truth, she highly doubted anything could keep her eyes open. She was trying hard not to doze off. "What did you do while you were gone?"

"Nothing really," he began. She saw his lips moving but then his voice became indistinct. She felt her body slouching and she didn't realize when she rested her head on him or when his arm wrapped around her. She didn't even realize when everything went black.

**MMN—To Be Continued—NMM**

I tried to get this in for Valentine's but fate had it done otherwise. Anyway, did you figure out what Spike's new PIN is? And…um…don't suffer from sleep deprivation. Sleep well. What is it 7-8 hours?

And by the way, please always try to pronounce someone's name to the best of your abilities. I've had to live with my name being mispronounced with an "a" and an "h", when in truth it is spelled with an "oe." But anyway, it's not like I get offended if people mispronounce my name. When they completely change it…that's a different story.

_**Dedicated to: all of you who've gotten this far...cookies for everyone**__!_

_**See you again Cowboys!!!**_


	24. Addicted

**Disclaimer: **If you got to this site, it wouldn't surprise me if you'd already noticed, but, it is called FanFiction for a reason.

O.o…Damn. This turned out to be way longer than I had expected. Get ready…

_On with the story!_

**MMN—CRAZY—NMM**

Spike had forgotten when he'd activated the autopilot. Forgotten when he'd closed his eyes and fallen asleep holding Faye. Forgotten that he wasn't supposed to do any of it…

It was nice to forget.

He felt Faye stirring and halfway opened his eyes. Where were they now? He tried to sit up, but it was nearly impossible without waking Faye up. He rubbed his eyes and slid his hand to the back of his stiff neck. But to his surprise, instead of feeling his skin, his hand slid over Faye's hand which was wrapped around his neck. His hand remained motionless over hers for less than a second before he pulled it away.

An alarm beeped. Faye stirred again and Spike tried to see what was wrong. The alarm sounded again. He looked down at Faye. Her eyebrows were knitting together. Was she having a nightmare? He slowly took her hand away from his neck and shook her by the shoulder as he sat up. He looked at the controllers. The alarm had set off because they were going off course.

"Hey, wake up," he said, though not too loudly and much more gently than he had expected. He took the ship out of autopilot with his free hand.

She opened her eyes and blinked several times. She looked around almost as if trying to locate herself. "I'm awake," she said hastily taking Spike's hand away from her shoulder. She maneuvered herself off of his lap and stood quietly behind the pilot's seat.

"We're almost there," he said as he relocated the ship in the right direction. He felt her hair stroke his cheek as she leaned forward trying to see the coordinate's board. Her breath caressed his skin.

"I hope Jet has something to eat ready for us. I'm starving," she said casually.

"Knowing Jet, either mushrooms and beef…or ramen," Spike said trying to ignore her stray hair tickling the side of his face.

"I hope it's not ramen," she replied.

Then they both remained quiet, unable to strike up a conversation. Though to a point, Spike wasn't sure if it was really necessary to speak at the moment. He liked being close to Faye. And if the only way he could achieve this was by being cramped in such a small space without saying much, quite truthfully, he'd be willing to do it.

But eventually, he could see Earth in the distance. And then, much quicker than he had expected, or wanted, the atmosphere of the planet was making the ship rock roughly. Spike asked Faye to hold on, but instead of wrapping her arms around his waist like before, she clutched the back of the pilot's seat. Spike ignored this and focused on getting the ship trough with ease. The change was sudden. For a minute, his arms were tense as the ship tore through the atmosphere, but once he entered, the ship flew easily and his muscles relaxed. He continued flying towards the location Jet had planned. He spotted the Bebop immediately. Even from a distance, he could tell it was not in the best of shape.

"What happened?" Faye asked him quietly. Spike could tell she was worried.

"I don't know," he said as he continued to notice more of the damage, "I left before that happened…But it's not as bad as it seems," he said trying to reassure her, "They were able to fly here after all."

"Spike-person!" Ed's voice came in loudly through the speakers of the ship. Spike and Faye bolted from the unexpected and noisy interruption. Then, Ed's face appeared on the communication system screen. "FAYE-FAYE!"

"Hey, Ed," Faye said smiling. Spike could feel her breathing was still irregular from the surprise.

"Ed'll open the gates…If they still work."

"Thanks," Faye said before Ed disappeared from the screen.

"I wish she wouldn't do that," Spike said as he prepared the ship to land. "It's one of her worst habits," he added as an afterthought.

"Really?" Faye said with a hint of mischief, "Are you sure it's not just because you get scared easily?"

"Me?" Spike answered, "I wish you could have seen yourself."

He hovered over the gates waiting for them to open. A small crevice formed, and then the gates closed again. He saw the same thing happen once more. Faye suggested that it was pointless to wait when he could just land the ship on the deck. He sat the ship down smoothly and he heard Faye sigh with relief as the cockpit opened. He watched her climb out of the ship and stretch herself. She flinched from time to time, especially when she stretched her arms over her head. It must have been that the cuts on her chest were being torn open again.

He wasn't in as much of a hurry as she was to get out. After all, they were back to where they should have been to begin. He saw Faye staring at him, almost as if telling him to hurry up. He climbed out of the ship in one easy move while she waited. But just as he walked nearer to her, she took a step forward towards the door. Spike didn't like her avoiding him. Especially since she always seemed to temp him towards her. His hand almost reached out to pull her back and stop her from walking away, but he knew that was too extreme. So instead, he simply stretched his back and walked behind her.

Faye opened the door and as soon as she did, Ed took a hold of her arm and pulled her inside. Spike heard Ed say something about getting cleaned up and painting Faye's nails red. And then he watched them walk away. He spotted the cut behind Faye's neck and then automatically remembered all the other wounds that covered her chest. He couldn't understand the concept behind butchering her like that. His skin crawled. And suddenly, he felt the desire to hurt someone.

He forced the thought away from his mind but made a memo to bother Faye about cleaning up the wounds. He walked over to the yellow couch and lay down with his arm over his eyes. His body felt drained. His breathing was thin and quiet. He felt the dust and dried sweat stuck to his skin. But most of all, he heard his heart beat calmly for the first time in so many hours. The sound made as his blood pumped in and out of his heart was so relaxing. He felt his mind gradually shutting down. He didn't even notice when Ein licked his hand and then walked away seeing no response from him. At some point, Spike heard the clanking of Jet's boots come nearer. He sat up slowly and shoved the sleepiness away.

"So how did it go?" Jet asked. He was drying his hands on a small green towel.

"Well enough," Spike answered shortly.

"You seen Ed?"

"She's with Faye…" he said dismissively. When he spoke her name, he remembered the way that her eyes had looked a while back, right after he'd kicked the door of the warehouse open. He didn't like to see her eyes like that. Completely untrusting. Vague. "That Zeus–Stephen guy. Whatever he wants to call himself. He cut Faye again. I found them in a room of an old warehouse. But when I showed up, she'd already killed him…The hardest thing though, was getting in and out of there."

Jet took a seat on the couch across from Spike. "Was it that tight in security?"

"No. But there was some sort of fight going on."

"So, apart from the cuts, is Faye alright?"

Spike stayed quiet for a second. Did nightmares count? He yawned. "At least that I could tell…Just the cuts and she's tired…and hungry. Actually, do you have something ready? I'm starving."

"I'm working on it. Whether you brought Faye back or not, I kind of figured you'd be hungry since you didn't even bother to eat breakfast that morning she left."

"What are we having?" Spike said slouching on the couch and diverting Jet's train of thought.

"What else? Mushrooms and beef!" he said. "Where are you going now?" Jet asked when he saw Spike standing up.

"I'll be asleep in my room. Wake me up when the food's ready."

Spike walked there slowly and closed the door behind him. He took his jacket off and threw it over a chair while simultaneously slipping his shoes off. He walked to his bed and took a seat. He unbuttoned the three topmost buttons of his shirt. He glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside; it was already 5:13 p.m. Spike lay over the sheets and fell asleep and dreamt of nothing.

**II-II II-II II-II**

Someone was knocking on his door. He peered at the clock before turning away, it was a little past six. The knocking continued. Spike heard the door being opened and someone step in.

"Hey, wake up," she said in a whisper.

It was Faye.

Spike pretended not to hear her. Now that he was so comfortable, he didn't feel like getting up. He wasn't even hungry anymore.

"You're going to eat alone if you don't get up," she said, her voice no longer a whisper.

Spike opened his eyes. She was holding the door open while leaning on the doorway. He looked at her as he sat up. She was wearing one of his sleeping shirts again.

"You really like wearing my clothes, don't you?" Spike said as he walked out of the room. Faye followed him.

"It's not like I'm doing it on purpose," she said defiantly, "I don't have clothes here. Jet's shirts are too big and Ed's are too small. I can't even breathe with them on—and with all these cuts it–where are you going?" Faye asked as she abruptly stopped when she noticed Spike wasn't walking towards the kitchen anymore.

"I'm going to shower," he answered plainly.

Spike heard her walk away. He went into the bathroom and turned the shower on. He undressed and stepped under the water. It wasn't even lukewarm. He sighed. It would have to do. It wasn't the first time that he'd have to shower with cold water anyway. He washed his hair and some of the shampoo fell on his eyes. He wiped it away and then smirked. Somehow, his clothes suited Faye.

**II-II II-II II-II**

For a few days, Spike remained locked in his room. When he was all rested up and tired of being secluded, he walked out onto the living room. Jet was making calls trying to order parts for the ship. Spike sat down to watch Ed play chess against someone named FlowerSlayer15-something-something. Faye was sitting on the opposite couch cleaning her wounds.

From time to time, Spike would glance over to see how Faye was doing. She got the cuts on her chest easily, but the one on her neck was deeper and harder to clean. She picked up a mirror, tried to pull her hair away from her neck, and clean the wound up all at the same time. Faye noticed Spike staring at her. He was about to look away, but that would really have made him look guilty.

"It's not very amusing," she said irritated.

"If you need help just say so," Spike responded.

She didn't argue.

He stood up and took the ball of cotton away from her hand, his fingertips barely touching her skin. She turned her back towards him and he sat down behind her. He ran his hand lightly over her neck to move her hair away. He shifted it to rest on one side of her neck. A few strands remained. Her hand moved over his and she swept the rest of it. Her fingertips brushed over his hand. She held her hair to the side and waited for his help. He cleaned the cut slowly and carefully. It was healing, but it was still abrasive.

"This is getting better," he said quietly. Somehow, it seemed unfit to speak too loudly.

"They're all healing up pretty fast," she said in the same tone he had spoken.

Jet sat the communicator down on the table and took a seat where Spike had been. "Looks like I've finally finished ordering all the things we need. Hopefully it'll all get here though."

"We're staying on Earth?" Faye said. Her voice was normal again though she sounded a little worried.

"It'll be okay," Jet answered, "Earth is not a place people want to bother with. Besides, I don't think you have to worry about getting chased or anything. I got in touch with some of my old contacts. The Blue Moon's gone under. And just about everyone in it. The police arrested a lot of them due to your basic crimes. Stealing. Cheating. Contraband. Murder…The casino is still up, but now it's owned by someone else."

"Really," Spike said sounding purposely interested. He could care less about the casino. As far as he was concerned, they had nothing to do with it anymore. He took a bandage from Faye's hand, their hands didn't touch anymore. Jet was watching them now. He would notice those little things. Spike unwrapped the bandage and placed it over the wound.

"Yeah," Jet continued aware of Spike's indifference. "The woman who claims it renamed it…Azazel, I think."

"Huh?" Faye said, "I wonder who she is."

"She was a young red-headed girl. Big eyes. Well built," Jet answered. "The story came out in the news last night. She'd just recently applied for a job at the Blue Moon but was rejected before everything went down. Somehow she got 'lucky' and landed herself enough money through gambling to buy the structure…sounds like she had some underhanded moves to me."

"Check Mate!" Ed said loudly. They stopped talking and turned their attention to Ed. They watched as she carefully placed the last piece down and captured the other player's king. She'd been playing the game for two days straight. It wasn't the most time she'd spent on a single game, but it was still something to be noted.

"Which reminds me," Jet began again after Ed threw her hands up in success, "there's a guy on the loose under the alias Check Mate. His bounty is still not high enough. Right now he'll be more trouble than he's worth. If the bounty gets high enough on him, which I'm certain it will, we may want to keep an eye on him. With the damage to the ship, we'll need the money."

"What's he wanted for?" Faye asked as she stood up from the couch and gathered all the bandages and medicines from the table.

"Killing corporate presidents," Jet answered.

They began making plans for other possible hunts and took up most of the afternoon talking about the one thing they all understood: bounty hunting.

The days continued to pass, mostly uneventful. Jet continued to organize the ship's repairs. Ed made plans to visit some friends of hers living on Earth. Faye and Spike saw little of each other. Except for the time they spent together after dinner, when Spike helped Faye clean the wound on her neck. He noticed that every day, their hands seemed to meet more and more. But after the wound on her neck, and the rest of the other cuts healed, there seemed to be no excuse for either of them to spend time together. And their hands didn't touch anymore.

It was only during meals that he saw her. One night during dinner, Spike noticed Faye was missing from the table. He tried not to think too much about it and figured she had gone to bed early or just wasn't feeling hungry at the time. Luckily, he didn't have to ask anything. A few minutes into the meal, Ed asked Jet about Faye.

"She said she was going to go get a drink," was Jet's response. Then he said, "Do you guys want any more food? There's plenty."

After that, the idea was dismissed quickly from the conversation. However, Spike couldn't help but mull over her in his mind. He didn't like the uncomfortable relationship that he had developed with Faye. It wasn't as if he hated her; it was actually the opposite. And for the longest time he had believed that Faye liked him. A lot. But now he wasn't so sure. He couldn't trust anything he believed anymore. He wasn't even certain that he understood himself to begin.

He always had liked Faye. But he'd managed to see her only as a partner or a co-worker. At some point, he'd been stupid enough to let the idea slip and now he sat there debating with himself. What was Faye to him? And of course, what was he to her? If Spike knew her as much as he believed, he'd also stopped being her partner, or just her friend, for a long time. But due to how she'd behaved recently, he couldn't trust that idea either.

He should have never touched her.

That was definitely why he was so worked up now. It mixed up every single one of his ideas. It was a given that actions speak louder than words. So what did that tell him? That they were physically attracted to each other? That they were both sexually frustrated? That they were bored? It was definitely enough to stir everything. But what any action could mean was completely unspecified. A kiss could be nothing else and nothing more than a kiss.

He considered her reaction if he were to pull her aside and ask her whether she liked him or not. He smirked. Jet and Ed stared questioningly at him but Spike ignored them. The idea reminded him of the first time a girl confessed to him. But being so blunt was probably not the best way for him to settle things now. It might work for high schoolers and teenagers. For the kind of thing that wouldn't make a difference in a few weeks or even days. The kind of thing that wouldn't change the stability of something. The kind of interest that could be considered only a fleeting experience.

This was nothing like it.

It included Faye and him. It even included Jet and Ed indirectly. The way that Faye and he acted on different situations. The effectiveness of a hunt. The way they all made a living…their way of living. When he thought about it, it only made sense to return to a co-worker relationship. But he couldn't fully convince himself of it. And that was the problem.

Faye didn't return an hour after the meal. Not an hour after they had finished watching television. It was midnight and she was still not back. Spike, Jet, and Ed were awake. They sat around the living room doing nothing. Spike's mind was racing with ideas. Was it possible for her to be in trouble again? She really needed to quit the habit of making them worry.

"I suppose there is no point on waiting around," Jet said almost as if reading his mind. "I'm sure she's fine." Jet got up and started to leave the living room. Ed didn't say anything but she also stood up.

"Goodnight, Ed," Spike said as he lit the last of his cigarettes.

"Goodnight, Spike-person," she responded and left the room after picking Ein up from under the coffee table.

Spike noticed that Ed had left the computer sitting on the table without being shut down. He stared at it as he smoked. When the screen went black, he continued to watch television. Spike checked the time, it was almost one. He couldn't sleep. His hands were restless. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. He was strongly craving nicotine, but he didn't have any more cigarettes around. If he could make it to a store or a bar, he would surely be able to find some. For a second, he hesitated to leave the Bebop. He didn't want it to appear as if he'd gone out looking for Faye. But it was hard enough to just sit around. It was even harder without nicotine.

He didn't think any of the stores were open any more, so he decided to pass by a bar. There weren't too many around, only two that he could think of. The possibility that he would run into Faye was very high. Would it really matter though? He was going to buy smokes, get a drink if he felt like it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

He walked to his room to get his coat. He could tell it was cold by the fog that was forming on the glass windows. When he stepped out of the Bebop and into the street, the breeze was gently lifting the dust from the streets. Spike walked to the nearest bar.

When he got there, the door was a bit hard to open, but that was to be expected; the place looked run down. He stepped in. The atmosphere of the room was hot. Almost instantly, he removed his coat. He spotted an open spot on the counter next to a space that was covered in glasses, most of which still had some amount of alcohol in them. He sat down on a stool and looked around.

"What can I get you?" a girl with black eyes, probably too young to be working there, asked him.

"I just came for some cigarettes."

"We don't have much choice," she said pulling a few packs out.

Spike had never tried any of them. He didn't care. Right now all he wanted was some amount of nicotine in his body. "Whatever's cheapest," he said.

"Do you want anything to drink while you're here?"

"Not right now," he answered and paid her.

He opened the pack and placed a cigarette between his lips. He dug around in his pockets for a lighter. There was nothing. He was just about to ask the girl if she had one when he heard Faye. He knew it was likely that he'd run into her. Half of him had hoped he wouldn't see her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him. She spoke slowly trying to make her words understandable. The r's and t's were spoken too weakly. It was obvious she was drunk.

He waited for a second to reply. "What does it look like?" Spike said. But before she could answer him, he changed his mind and asked her for a lighter. She dug inside her pocket and handed it to him. Her hand carelessly touched his. He waited for her to lift her hand away before finally lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. The nicotine in his mouth was bittersweet. The smell of burning paper and tobacco made him relax. Faye sat down on the stool in front of all the glasses. She picked one up and took a drink out of it. "How are you going to pay for all that?" he asked her.

"I'm not," she said picking a different glass up. "Do you see that guy on the table by the door? The one with a red shirt. I made a bet to out drink him. If I won, he'd pay for all my drinks. Well, he was stupid enough to agree." Faye took a drink out of a glass that was almost full. "Here have some," she said. But she didn't hand him the glass; she slid it on the counter until it was in front of his seat.

Spike saw the imprint of her red lipstick on the clear glass. He picked it up and brought it close to his lips. He was about to take a drink when a thought crossed his mind.

"And what if you didn't win?" he said before taking a small drink.

She rolled her eyes as if it was the most obvious answer. Spike understood immediately. She'd spend a night with the guy. He felt dull even for asking. He swallowed the drink in his mouth. The liquor left a strange aftertaste on the back of his throat. Spike sat the glass down and smoked instead. Faye didn't say anything else to him. He smoked for a while. After a few minutes, his eyelids felt heavy. He stood up and placed the cigarettes in his shirt pocket.

"Hold on," Faye said, "I don't know if I'll make it back otherwise."

She sat her glass down uneasily. Some of the dark liquor spilled on the counter and on her hand. Faye shook the liquid away from her hand, but a few drops remained clinging to her skin. She looked at them briefly before licking them away. Spike followed her movements.

"Whatever suits you," he finally said.

She walked behind him as they exited the bar. The wind wasn't blowing as hard as it had before, but it was still cold. Spike waited for Faye to catch up. Her shirt was visibly thin and the wind moved through it easily. She crossed her arms around her chest.

"Do you want to wear this?" he said handing her his jacket. She shook her head. Spike shrugged his shoulders. But he didn't wear the jacket either; he carried it on his arm.

They didn't say anything for a while, but the silence was strange, so they attempted to make conversation.

"Have you ever wondered if you could beat me at drinking?" Faye asked.

"Not really," Spike answered. He considered it for a second. "I'm pretty sure I could."

Faye didn't answer immediately. "I don't have any money to bet with."

"I thought you'd be exchanging sex favors," he said sounding just barely bitter. Faye didn't respond. "Guess there's no bet," he added, making sure to control his voice again.

"Guess so," she said after a few seconds.

"So how much did you drink tonight?" he said.

"I can't remember," she answered.

He didn't know what else to say so he kept quiet.

She looked around as they walked back to the Bebop. Spike wasn't paying attention to anything else but the walkway. He heard Faye trip over something. He turned around. Faye took a hold of his body as she kept herself from falling. Her head barely touched his chest. Spike dropped his coat trying to catch her. Her breathing warmed the cloth of his shirt. She clung to him for a second before either moved. For a moment, he felt his pulse racing.

"I'd say you drank plenty," Spike said as he helped her regain her balance before lengthening their proximity.

"I think I tripped over a rock," she said looking back and slowly releasing her hold on him. He stared in the same direction she had but failed to see anything.

Spike looked down at his coat. It was covered with large dust spots. He sighed heavily as he bent down to pick it up. But he saw Faye also reach down and stopped before their heads collided. She picked the coat up from the ground and tried to get most of the dust off with her hands. As she stood up, she folded the coat over her arm.

"I'll carry it." Spike said. She shook her head and ran her hand over her forehead. Then she covered her face with his coat. "You okay?" He said trying to uncover her face. She shook her head again.

"I don't feel right," she said with her face buried in his jacket.

Spike snickered for a second. He looked around the streets. They were mostly empty. "Here," he said. He placed one of his arms around her shoulders and led her in the right direction. "You're going to have a hell of a morning tomorrow."

"Shut up," she said slowly uncovering her face. "Are we very far?"

"A few more blocks."

"I'm never going to drink this much again..." She laughed. "I don't even believe that."

Spike smirked. He'd have to agree with her.

He glanced at her before turning his attention to the walkway. The dim light of the night made her skin look almost like porcelain. He didn't mind doing this for Faye. And when he considered how distant she had been with him before, he was glad that after some drinks she could be so lax around him. It had been a while since they behaved so indifferently of their actions. However, even now, he knew that limits were still set.

Once he saw she was stable again, he slowly removed his arm from around her. But for a few seconds, Faye kept her body close to his. He could feel the warmth of her side against his. He put his hands in his pockets, trying to again regain what had become their usual distance, and walked slowly until she stepped away from him.

After a while she asked him, "So what was it you said you'd been doing… I mean, in the five years you were gone?"

"I've already told you," he said a little annoyed. But he knew very well that she hadn't been paying attention to him when he had told her on the way to Earth. She had fallen asleep as soon as he had begun to speak. He could have easily repeated himself, but he didn't like to talk about being part of some cryogenics experiment. It made him feel like a piece of last week's dinner meat stuffed at the back of a freezer. And to him, that really didn't matter. "Besides, if I tell you again tonight, you'll probably forget by tomorrow," he said to dismiss her question.

When they arrived at the Bebop, Faye automatically lay down on the yellow couch. She kicked her shoes off and watched Spike as he sat across from her on the other couch. The lights were off, but Ed's computer was open on the table and Faye had somehow managed to accidentally take the computer out of standby mode. Spike guessed her hand had landed on the keyboard as she sat down. He saw her face through the strange light of the computer screen. Her skin was pale and full of shadows. He couldn't do anything but stare. Faye's eyes met his.

Spike took out a cigarette and lit it. She smiled. Her eyes were piercing and entrancing. Helooked away and got up from the couch. He walked around the table and crouched near her. He placed a cigarette between her lips and then gently laid the lighter on her palm. He stood up, took a drag out of his cigarette, and walked away.

"Hey," she called after him. "Do you know where Jet keeps the blankets?"

"No," he answered.

"Damn it. I'm cold."

She sat up and flicked the lighter on. He watched the tip of her cigarette turn a bright orange. Faye blew the smoke out slowly, the light from the computer played on the smoke of the cigarette until the screen turned black again.

"Just take one from my room," he said unable to see her in the dim light and walking away.

"I'll get it," she said standing up. One of her hands lightly rested on his back as she walked behind him. Spike could hear her breathing.

He couldn't remember if he had an extra blanket folded somewhere in his room, so he decided to give her one from his bed. He turned the lights of his room on as soon as he entered. Her hand slid away from his back. But she stood by him as he took one of the covers away from his bed. He handed the blanket to her, their hands meeting again. He almost expected her to immediately leave after that. But she didn't. Their skin was still touching. And before he knew it, their eyes had locked. He heard the pounding of his blood on his eardrums. And felt his body being drawn to her.

The lights flickered off and on. He blinked. Spike's glance broke away from hers. She walked out of his room without saying a word. He heard hers steps fade and closed the door after the hall grew silent. He breathed slowly. He knew that she was too drunk and he was too sober to allow anything to happen. He locked the door. Spike put on sleeping clothes and turned out the light. He slid between the sheets of his bed and tried to fall asleep. But again, thoughts of her were consuming his mind.

The next morning Spike got out of bed almost at eleven. His head was aching, but he couldn't say that it was from sleeping too much since he had barely rested that night. He made his way into the kitchen to get himself some coffee. He walked past the living room. Faye was curled up on the couch with his blanket slung across her body. Her hair lay gently on her face. Her shirt had become partially unbuttoned. Her shoes were thoughtlessly laid on the ground. She looked like a stray black cat that had snuck in and was carelessly napping on the couch. He glanced at her again before resuming his walk.

He could tell that Ed and Jet had already eaten. There were dirty dishes in the sink and there was an empty but used pan still setting on the stovetop. Spike wasn't hungry. He didn't look for food at all; he simply made himself a large cup of strong, black coffee. When Spike smelled the intense scent, he felt his mind quickly recover. He took a drink out of the cup and was just about to leave the kitchen when Jet walked in.

"Did you go looking for Faye last night?" Jet said sounding more casual than he should have.

"No," Spike answered bluntly as he walked out into the living room. "I went to buy some cigarettes and she followed me back."

Faye was sitting up on the couch now. Her eyes were almost closed, but she was awake. "Why do you guys have to be so loud?" she said irritated.

"We're not being loud," Spike answered raising his voice just a little bit, "you're just hung over."

"Idiot, don't you think I know that." She pulled the blanket away from her body and got up. She seemed to be walking towards the kitchen, but then she glanced at Spike's coffee. "So that's what woke me up." She took the cup out of his hands. She didn't touch him.

"That's mine," Spike said, but Faye had already taken a drink from it. Her face contorted as she swallowed.

"Urgh, how can you drink this?" she said handing him the cup back. "I'll go make my own." Then, she walked into the kitchen.

Spike stared at the cup before bringing it close to his lips. He was about to take a drink, but decided against it. He sat the cup down on the table. She'd regret doing that to him. He left the living room and went to the restroom. He showered making sure to use up all the hot water before Faye did.

As Spike walked out of the bathroom, he saw Ed making her way out of the Bebop. She wore a messenger bag and had her computer hoisted on her head. Ein was following her closely. Spike figured that Ed had finally decided to go and visit the friends she said were on Earth. She turned to look at him and smiled as she waved good-bye. Spike lifted his hand and thoughtlessly waved back before she and Ein moved out of sight.

The Bebop was liveliest with Ed around. Even if there was nothing going on, she managed to keep things interesting. The difference was obvious now that she was gone. The Bebop was quiet again and it had only been a couple of hours after her departure. Spike was watching the news. Jet was tending to his trees. Faye was sleeping in her room. The rest of the day was very much the same; they didn't even bother to eat together.

The next morning was different. Jet had breakfast made and managed to get Spike and Faye out of bed early enough. After breakfast they gathered in the living room for what seemed to be no reason in particular. But before they had said anything, Jet got a call. He stepped out of the room to take it. Spike and Faye said nothing and waited for him to get back. As Jet took a seat again, it was obvious that something hadn't gone the way he had expected.

"Listen, half of the parts I ordered got shipped to the wrong location," Jet said.

"Can't you just get them to be shipped here?" Faye asked.

"The delivery system only goes through there once a week. It would take at least that long for them to get here…if we get lucky. And if they're not picked up, they'll get sold to someone else." He got up from his seat. "I'm going pick them up. It won't take me but a couple of days and it's about time I got working on the repairs of the ship."

"I'll go get them," Spike said realizing that if Jet left, he'd be left alone with Faye. He wasn't sure that it was a good idea for the two to be left alone. Not when everything seemed so messed up.

"Nah, I'll take care of it," Jet answered, "I'm the one who knows what I ordered and if there are any more errors, I'm the one who knows what we need to repair the ship…Besides, I feel like doing something. Unlike you guys, I can't seem to just lounge around."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Spike said.

Jet ignored his question and said, "I have to get a few things ready before I leave."

The sound of his boots against the floor of the Bebop slowly faded. Spike glanced at Faye. She left the room a second after. Spike felt awkward in the room, even if he was alone, so he left to take a walk on the dusty streets of Earth.

He didn't keep track of how long he lingered around, but by the time he had returned to the Bebop the sun was setting. It was quiet. Yet something told him he wasn't the only one there. His steps echoed in the silence. He looked around as he made his way to the kitchen to find something to eat. It wasn't necessarily that he was hungry; he just knew it was about time for him to have something. Recently, that was how his meals had become. More of a need than a want.

Spike put some water to boil and took out a cup of ramen noodles from the cupboard. He sat down on the table as he waited for the water to be ready. He tapped his finger on the tabletop in no particular rhythm, merely waiting for time to pass. When the water finally boiled, he rose to his feet and unwrapped the cup as he walked towards the stove. He heard Faye coming into the kitchen.

"Haven't seen you around," she said lethargically. "Been out all day?"

"Yeah," Spike answered in much the same manner.

He poured the water onto the cup, picked up some chopsticks, and left the kitchen. He sat down on the yellow couch and watched the news, though he wasn't completely interested in them. He'd watched the news for so long that they had slowly started to become uneventful. It was always the same thing. People dying. People killing.

A few minutes afterwards, Faye sat down to eat besides him. She placed an apple down on the table and held a can of tuna and some crackers in her hands. They ate and watched television for a while, making only minuscule comments relating to the news. When Spike had finished his noodles, Faye began to eat the apple. He tried to focus on the news, but the sound of Faye biting the fruit kept him distracted. He glanced at her from time to time, becoming slightly edgy. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch. Maybe he was just tired.

He got up and started walking to his room. Faye didn't say anything. She continued to bite the apple. Her eyes glazed with the light of the television. Spike stared at her for a second, but she didn't even glance at him as he left. He couldn't believe that she was so engrossed in the programming to not even say goodnight. He looked at her, still biting into the green skin of the fruit, before turning away.

It wasn't necessarily that he was expecting something from her. Though to a certain extent, she'd always managed to give him some recognition. And maybe he'd just grown used to it. It was only lately that she was acting so detached. He didn't like it. It was too sudden. Too haphazard. At times, Faye would look at him and only him. At others, he wasn't even there. He became irritated with himself. He went to bed and slept until late the next morning.

Faye was gone again. Spike sat alone on the yellow couch eating ramen for lunch. He watched television and wondered how long it would take for Jet or Ed to come back. Being alone with Faye was tiring. It made him think too much. Feel too much. He heard Faye's steps. He could hear her getting closer, but kept watching the broadcast.

"Hey," she said. He was just about to look at her when he felt her hand frivolously slap the back of his head. He looked at her angrily. She handed him one of three bags and took a seat across from him.

"What's this?"

"It's for you idiot," she said. "Earth is not the best place to buy clothes, but you desperately need a shirt that isn't pink."

He looked down at his shirt. After Ed had stained his shirts, he'd never bothered too much about it. It wasn't as if he didn't have enough things to think about. Spike sat his cup of noodles down and opened the bag up. He unfolded the shirt. It was light blue. It was the right size. He glanced at her questioningly.

"What's the catch?" he said looking at her.

"No catch. I did it since you gave me hell over wearing your clothes."

There must have been something that he didn't know about. Somehow, this felt like a strange act from her part. Spike tried to figure a little more out. "I thought you were broke?"

"I did a little gambling," she said walking away.

Spike folded the shirt back up and put it the bag. He leaned back and rested his head on the palm of his hand. He didn't understand her anymore. And he hated it.

**II-II II-II II-II**

"I'm going out for a drink," Faye said.

Spike was woken up by her voice. He opened his eyes to find her staring down at him. It was only the second time he had seen her all day long. Her lips were red. Her eyelashes were long and dark. She wore a shirt that clung to her body. A skirt that ended a hand above her knees.

"Can't you do anything else but drink?" he said sleepily as he rose from his bed.

"What else is there to do around here?" she said. "You like to drink too, don't you?"

"Why are you telling me this anyway?" he asked.

"Forget it," Faye said crossly. "…I'm just used to letting Jet know. But since he's not here you're the only one that's left."

"Fine then," he said indifferently before closing his eyes and resting again.

"Why are you…" she began irritated before her voice trailed off. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You should get out too… Spike—" She stared at him, with those eyes that he hated to see her wear and left his room, not even bothering to finish her sentence or to close the door behind her.

Spike sat up. It was true that he hadn't done much anymore. It all was so pointless though. He could take walks. But there wasn't much to see. Nothing ever changed enough. The same thing always came over his mind. All the stupid ideas. And he was absolutely tired of it. He hated it. To feel that way. To not have enough control to stop those ideas from invading his mentality. Spike sighed heavily. He couldn't wait until they were away from Earth and entertained with bounty hunting. To find away to make those ideas of Faye fade away. To find a way to keep busy even if it was only to get on day by day…

Still. He couldn't keep himself living that way. Because, even now that he'd dismissed Faye, he'd been unwillingly listening intently to the sound of her heels; as they came nearer, as they faded. And now her voice echoed in his head. The way she said his name in anger. The times she'd spoken to him in a whisper. The way her lips moved as she spoke.

Somehow, his hand moved over his lips and gently covered his mouth. The first night he'd kissed her, how long had it been? He wanted to feel that again. That strange pounding in his chest, the one that was so similar to being on the verge of death. Yet completely different. And somehow very satisfying. He wanted to taste her again. His skin burned with the desire to feel the curves of her body that he'd been able to touch. The one's he'd wished he'd had. He sighed in frustration. He was so exhausted of it. It was always the same thing; never reaching anywhere. Only thinking and thinking. He stood up from bed feeling annoyed. Regardless of what happened, there was no way he could keep restraining himself to remain as he was. He buttoned up his coat and left the Bebop inclined to do something that he wasn't even sure about.

As always, the streets didn't look any different. The sky was cloudy though and he couldn't see any stars. The streets were relatively quiet. Every once in a while he came across a group of children playing on the streets. Sometimes it was a pair of lovers hiding in the shadows.

His heartbeats were heavy. Or rather his blood felt dense and hard to pump through his body. He trudged along the sidewalk making his way to the bar where he expected to find Faye. He really didn't know what he was doing. But he couldn't stop.

He opened the door carefully and stepped into the bar. It was hot again. Was it the room or him? He took his jacket off and looked around. He didn't see Faye anywhere. Somehow, he felt both relieved and bothered. He glanced at the counter. The same girl that had assisted him before was working there again. He walked closer to her, and noticing this, she approached him.

"What can I do for you today?" For someone working at such a place, she seemed so carefree.

"I'm looking for someone," he said, "I thought she'd be here but it doesn't look like it."

"Well, maybe I can help. I'm pretty good at remembering faces," she said smiling.

"Last time I was here, do you remember the woman," he stopped. How could he ask this? Was she the woman that he came for, came with, or just bumped into? He thought about it for a second and said, "…the woman that I sat next to?"

"Yeah, I remember." She bit her lower lip a little then said, "the pretty one with dark hair and light skin. Green eyes, I think."

"That sounds right," Spike answered.

"Lucky you," she said winking at him. She glanced at her watch. "She was here a little over half an hour ago but left after she managed to gamble some men out of their money."

"It's definitely her," Spike said with a smirk. Guess there was no way some extra cash could escape Faye.

"D'you want a drink while you're here?" she asked.

He was about to reject her offer, but he actually felt like he did need it. "I'll take some whiskey," he said.

The girl seemed overjoyed. She brought him his glass and left, still smiling. Spike didn't bother to sit down. He swallowed the drink all at once. It burned down his throat and left him pleasantly satisfied. He sat down enough money on the counter, right besides the empty glass, and didn't bother to wait for the change.

When he stepped outside, he kept his coat over his arm. He looked around the streets and up at the sky. It was definitely too early for her to have gone back to the Bebop. And if that had been the case, he probably would have met her on the way there or at the Bebop. Knowing Faye though, she'd gone to the other bar to see how much more money she could gamble men out of.

He glanced at the horizon. The only thing left of the sun was a small slice of bright white. The streets looked orange and the shadows grew quickly. He wasn't surprised when, within minutes, the streets were dark and the streetlights started to burn. Some flashed on and off. Some never came on. His pulse was even again, but he felt a piece of something stuck to the pit of his stomach. He ignored the feeling and walked again. He wasn't as rushed as he had been before. Now that he'd had time to think, his actions felt like an obvious mistake. The more steps he took, the more he repented. And yet, something kept him moving.

He walked slowly and eventually arrived at the bar. Above the door hung several signs. Most of them were advertisements for liquor. Some for cigars and cigarettes. One of them was neon red and in cursive letters read "Oversight." He opened the door and stepped in. Unlike the other bar, this one was better kept and had more customers. The smoke was rising steadily from the tables and the glasses full of alcohol were being emptied quickly.

But even in the commotion, he spotted Faye easily. She was in a corner sitting on a table for four with two other guys, one at each of her sides. Spike stared at them for a second. It looked like one was trying to pick Faye up; the other was most likely serving wingman. They didn't seem to be succeeding very well though. He could see Faye's displeasure even through the small smile on her face. They were making her some sort of wager now. He could tell because her eyebrows jumped up just a little. But really, what did she expect going alone to a place full of men dressed as she was. Even he didn't like the way they were staring at her.

He slowly made his way across to the table. Faye didn't notice him. She had focused her gaze away from the men, listlessly scanning the wall's decorations. Spike casually pulled out the empty chair and hung his coat to the back of the seat. Faye still hadn't bothered to turn, she probably expected him to be just another guy. The men stared at him gruffly, like he'd crossed into their territory.

"Whoa buddy!" the wingman said.

"Can't ya see we're having a conversation here," the other added.

Faye finally looked up. She looked at him almost as if she'd been just woken up. Spike grinned at her and sat down. "I figured I should get out too, after all," he said as casually as he could.

The men glanced back and forth between the two. Now that he was in front of her, Spike wasn't sure of what to do. Things usually just happened out of the blue between him and Faye. He didn't know what to say either, so to keep busy, he pulled out a cigarette. He placed it between his lips and was about to put the rest up when Faye stretched her hand out towards him. He took a cigarette out and placed it on her hand. Her fingertips touched the palm of his hand as she took it away from him.

"So, you finally got out of bed?" Faye said holding the cigarette close to her mouth. Her voice was soothing; completely in contrast with the tone she had used back at the Bebop. Spike flicked the lighter on. She leaned a little over the small table and waited for him to light hers first. He did so, almost mechanically.

"Yeah," Spike answered. He lit his cigarette and finished, "But you would know how comfortable it is."

Faye rolled her eyes at him, easily catching what he inferred. "Are you going to order anything to drink? We are at a bar."

He took a drag. The smoke rose from their table in little puffs and wisps. He was calm. It felt almost like years ago when he and Faye would go out to drink to the same bar. It was kind of similar to that, except for one major difference: this felt like he was basically with her, not just taking her along. And he actually wanted to be there, that was kind of new too. "What have you been having?" he asked at last.

"Scotch, bourbon, whiskey…" she said, "and a few others." She shook the ashes away from the cigarette.

"Never heard of pacing yourself, have you?" he said. It felt right to be able to talk to her again.

"Never heard of having fun?" she remarked with a hint of sarcasm.

Just then, the maid came by. Spike asked to be brought everything that Faye had had so far. Besides them, the two men had been exchanging glances constantly and had now begun to fidget. The main man tried to say something, but Spike interrupted him before he had a chance to utter anything.

"I guess I'll have test out how fun this is," he said. Then it was his turn to tap his cigarette on the ashtray.

"Either way, I'm already ahead," Faye said smugly.

"I thought we'd agreed not to do this kind of thing."

"We haven't agreed to anything," Faye said quickly. She looked away from him for a second.

He smirked at her response and said, "So you do remember a few of the things you did."

"I was drunk, not totally wasted," she said facing him again. Her skin had turned a little brighter.

"Still, you needed me to go find you before returning home," Spike said testing how much it would take to really make her blush. He didn't bother to notice exactly when, but at some point after he said that, the two guys got up from the table and left.

"You went to find me?" she said. Spike realized his mistake too late. "I thought you'd only gone to buy some cigarettes?" The hint of amusement in her voice was tempting.

"Either way you followed me back," he answered and evaded the question.

"Well then, either way you found me," she said in much the same manner he had answered.

His drinks were finally brought to the table. There were only five. Spike looked at the glasses. He really didn't care which he drank first, so he took one filled with a clear liquid. He brought it close to his lips. It had no scent. The dew from the glass slid through his fingers. It tasted slightly sweet and fresh. But there was nothing behind it. It was only water. He looked at Faye. She was smiling. It wasn't like the one she wore with the two men. She lifted up her glass and took a small sip, waiting for him to finish the water. After that, he picked up the scotch. He swallowed it all at once. It thundered down through his chest. Faye stared at him intently until he sat the glass down. It was strange to see her so focused on him. He didn't mind though. Even if it made him feel uneasy.

"You should have the bourbon next," she said as Spike reached down to pick his third drink. He lifted it up. She watched him as he drank everything in front of him. One by one the glasses were emptied. When he had caught up with her she laughed quietly for a second. Spike looked at her. She smiled a little and had the rest of her glass in one drink. That smile and those eyes. He liked her so much…Was it even considered 'like' anymore?

The barmaid walked by. He smirked at Faye and temptingly said, "another round please."

**II-II II-II II-II**

Spike felt pulsations running through his head. He tried to open his eyes but he could barely lift his eyelids. He blinked twice before managing to focus his sight. The first thing he noticed was the ceiling. It was unfamiliar, a foul pink in color. He glanced to his right. The walls were covered with dull floral designs of purple and red. He didn't need to look to his left. He could hear Faye breathing calmly besides him. Spike sat up slowly as he tried not to wake her. The springs of the mattress squeaked a little.

He sighed silently and turned to see her. He looked at her effortlessly. Her back was towards him. Faye was on the other side of the bed, completely away from him. She held the white sheet pulled over her chest but her back remained completely exposed. He followed the curve of her spine until the sheets covered her body. Then, he traced the rest of her, knowing exactly how her body looked even if it was almost lost in the creases and folds of the pale sheets.

But something didn't feel right. He forced his gaze away from her. The comforter was on the floor. Their clothes were spread out over the worn green carpet. He spotted his shirt just a few inches beside the door. But his coat was next to the bed. The key of the room was on a table near the door. The lamp on the table was balancing on its side, nearly falling.

Faye stirred; he glanced at her once and looked away again. After a few minutes, her back was still towards him, but he would tell she was no longer asleep. Her breathing had become thin and at times irregular. But she finally sat up. She moved very slowly and kept the sheet securely held over her body. Her hair fell over her face. She carefully placed it behind her ear. Then her hand slid over her neck. It became motionless before it moved away and clutched the white sheet even closer to her. Spike's sight fell on the nape of her neck, on the bruise on her skin. Faye became aware of this, and once again moved her hair, positioning it as it had been. She didn't say anything. He couldn't speak. His ears were buzzing. His chest felt shallow and tight.

He sat on the edge of the bed. His back towards her. He heard Faye's heavy breath before she moved again. She took the upper sheet of the blankets away and wrapped herself with it. He looked back at her as she walked into the bathroom. The door closed and he heard the shower curtain being drawn. Then he heard a slight dripping of water. Faye cursed angrily.

The water started picking up and he heard her step in. He could hear the sound of the rushing water dripping away from her body or hitting the cold tiles. His neck felt stiff and his back hurt. Spike stretched, still sitting. He winced. His skin stung. He carefully ran his hand over his back. His fingers moved slowly over lines of dried blood and torn skin. He took his hand away.

He didn't shift at all from where he was. His head was aching. He couldn't think.

The water in the shower stopped running. Moments later, Faye stepped out of the bathroom. She wore two towels, one covering her body and the other wrapping her hair. Her skin was flushed and drops of water were rolling down her body. Spike turned away from her. Even if she appeared to be provoking him, he knew otherwise. Her eyes were vague. He knew it too. It felt odd, like something was missing or had gone wrong. Neither was able to put anything into words. The silence was antagonizing. But right now it was the safer choice compared to spitting out words that could easily lead to something worse. As it was, the atmosphere was heavy and awkward.

"Spike," Faye said uneasily. She quietly cleared her throat and continued, "We need to checkout."

He glanced at the clock and nodded. He couldn't trust his voice at the moment. Faye began to pick up her clothes from the floor. He got out of bed and showered. There was barely enough soap left for him to use, but the water was still boiling hot.

When he came out, his clothes were off of the floor and on the bed. Faye was still there. She was sitting on the bed about to put her shoes on. She didn't turn to see him and her reaction, or rather lack of, appeared to be strained. He dried himself up and changed quickly. Even after he was fully clothed, Faye didn't face him. He was slipping his shoes on when Faye sat up from the bed. She walked to the table, picked up the keys, and sat the lamp down correctly. Spike walked towards the door, she opened it and they walked down to the office together.

The person working the office was a friendly old woman. Spike guessed she was the owner of the motel and was somehow trying to keep the business alive. They turned in the key and left the building. He wondered how long Faye would stay besides him, but it didn't take very long for him to find out. As soon as they had stepped out of the building she spoke.

"I need to take care of a few things," she said hastily. Faye turned to him and stared directly into his eyes.

"Okay," he said. As he had expected, his voice sounded odd. He ignored it and instead returned Faye's intense gaze. They couldn't look away from each other for a moment. They turned away and walked in opposing directions. The wind blew gently over the streets and lifted the white dust and dead leaves.

**II-II II-II II-II**

The water was falling steadily from the sky. The droplets clung to the windows and rolled down as they merged with others. The streets were grey. How many times had he looked out the window now? He strolled back to the yellow couch and sat down. He turned the television on. The news were on the weather section. It only showed more signs of rain for the afternoon. He frowned.

A little after eight, he finally heard the door to the Bebop being opened. He heard her heels coming off and the sound of her feet on the metal. When he could hear near enough, he got up from the couch and faced her. Her hair was wet and clinging to her skin. Her shirt had become slightly transparent and her clothes hung tightly over her body. The water dripping away from her fell on the ground. She didn't appear bothered by her condition. She was looking directly at Spike's eyes.

"Last night…I—can't remember much," Faye said.

His chest felt strange. But Spike couldn't hold it against her. He also hadn't been able to remember everything. He'd been able to recall a lot, but there were parts that had been completely erased. He didn't remember how they got to the room or what happened afterwards. And he also didn't remember little things, like the instant the scratches had been carved on his back. What bothered him the most though, was that he could only remember the actions and not how anything felt. His memories were like a part of television programming, full of images and sound, but no actual sentiment.

Faye licked her lips, trying to force more words out but obviously failing.

"Jet called," he unwillingly changed the subject after seeing her struggle. "He said that he'll be back soon."

"Did he say when?" she responded with ease.

"Tomorrow night…" he answered. She appeared relieved, but the expression was only momentary. Spike felt the same way. Avoiding this; it was very fatiguing. Even if being apart seemed to be the only way they could deal with each other, every time, it stopped working more and more. "I'm going out," he said looking past her.

"It's raining," she noted, her voice still casual.

"It didn't stop you," he said. She didn't argue. He took a step away from her and she didn't move either.

He walked to his room to, at the very least, take a coat with him. He closed the door as soon as he'd stepped in. He picked the coat up from his bed, where he'd carelessly forgotten it in the morning, and put it on. As he stretched his arms to place them into the sleeves, he felt the skin of his back stretch and the scratches burn. He flinched a little. He picked up his cigarettes and lighter from the table next to his bed. He didn't bother to button up his coat. He opened the door and gave a step out.

Faye was standing there.

She stared at him, her eyes clearly revealing her frustration. He looked at her with the same face. At some point, she'd taken a hold of his shoulder, almost as to prevent him from walking away.

"Let's just admit it," he said surprisingly calm, "you don't want me around right now."

She thought about it, but didn't respond. So much for hoping she'd disagree. Spike looked at her and felt the pressure of her hand against his body. It felt strange being so close to her, like her cold hand was burning his skin, even through his coat and shirt. He took a step back.

"You never make things any easier," she said after seeing him move. "I can't change last night. If you're around it's…If you leave, it's a mistake." Spike looked away from her eyes. The neck of her shirt wasn't pulled up and he could easily spot the kiss mark on her neck.

He looked at her again. Spike didn't understand what she meant. He was tired of trying to reason out her thoughts. Tired of trying to understand something he clearly didn't. And in spite of whether his opinion mattered or not, he said, "What do you want?"

Faye looked taken aback. "I—" she began indecisively. He looked at her waiting for a response. He didn't think that keeping his eyes so focused on her helped any, but he didn't want to look away either. She finally said, "I want you to stop thinking you can only run away."

"Me?" he smirked, amused by her response. "Who's the one that's been evading me? Just this morning—"

"—This morning. Yes! I know!" she said harshly, "But what about now? You're the one that's leaving…I'm so exhausted of this." Spike tried to speak, but she interrupted him. "Do you have any idea how many times I'd told myself I couldn't stand you anymore! That you just tempt me because you have nothing better to do? That you don't give a damn anyway…I can't understand anything because I never know when you're serious!" She stopped herself, aware of how caught up she had become. She breathed heavily. Her eyes were intense. A drop of water slid down a strand of her hair and fell down on her pressed, pale lips.

Why was it only he that was the problem? What about her? Did she consider how much she distressed him? He'd only acted so uncertain towards her because her actions always made him doubt. Always pulling him in before withdrawing herself. He should have listened to his iron cold reasoning instead of his stupid emotions. Instead of that placid feeling he got anytime she looked only at him. The warmth of her skin. The oddly exciting tranquility of being with her…

"I am," he said bluntly.

After the words left his lips, he felt lighter and was able to wait patiently for Faye to say something. But she didn't. Instead, she barely placed her hands on his face and carefully moved nearer to him. Her fingertips felt cool against his face, but her breath was warm. He watched her closely. Their lips were almost touching. He wanted to lean forward and meet her. To taste her again and actually remember the sensation of it. But he did nothing. It'd always been him who touched her; at least this time, he needed to know it was what she wanted. He stood there, hands clenched in pockets.

Her hands dropped to his shoulders and she lowered herself. Spike felt her head slightly resting on his chest. The cool water from her hair crossed the fabric of his shirt and touched his skin. He breathed evenly, but felt perplexed. He wasn't aware of when his palpitations had stopped or when the strange feeling that someone was tearing his chest apart appeared. Faye did not move away, but neither did she move any closer. Her hands slowly lifted from his shoulders. His hands left his pockets simultaneously, but remained motionless at his sides.

"I must be crazy to do this…," she whispered.

He barely heard her through the sound of the rain beating down on the roof of the Bebop. She ran her hands through his hair and inched closer again. This time, her actions weren't made with the superficiality of her last attempt. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed herself against him. Her breath and lips lingered lightly on his skin. Spike's pulse suddenly regained momentum. His hands barely touched her back. Spike felt her cold lips on his. One of his arms circled her waist and the other found its place behind her neck. Her lips gradually became warmer, unwilling to accept rejection. The contact wasn't anything like the night before or any of their other little games. Whenever she touched him, he wanted more from her. And every time it became worse…Had he become addicted to her?

With his arms around her, he was able to feel how cold Faye's body really was. He slightly pulled away from her, creating just enough space between the two so he could speak. "You should have done that first." He hated the way his voice made it obvious that he'd wanted her that badly. She laughed silently. But he continued to speak, "You shouldn't be so careless either, now you're going to get sick."

"And what about you," she said taking a small step back, "you're all cold and wet too."

"And whose fault is that…" Spike responded. "You should take responsibility since now we both need to get out of these clothes and warmed up." Faye looked taken aback a little. Spike thought about his words again and noticed the ever so light blush creeping over her face. Realizing this, he smiled at her mischievously. "What are you thinking about, Faye."

"Shut up," she said, her hand landing on his chest. "I feel bad enough as is?"

"Why?" he asked.

"I've been freaking cold all day long, that's why!" she said irritated.

Spike didn't realize what possessed him to do it, but he took a step closer to Faye and wrapped his arms around her. He held her close to his body. Both of her hands were on his chest and she hid her face on the cloth of his shirt. She felt so cold and damp against his body. He swallowed before speaking, "this…is fine now, right?"

"Yeah," she said quietly.

Her body was still shivering in his arms. He lifted her chin up and tasted her mouth again. Her arms slowly encircled his torso underneath his coat. After a while, Spike's chest throbbed and he could feel the beating of Faye's heart through their immediacy. He couldn't hear the rain over the sound of his pulse and their heavy breathing. His skin was burning and Faye's touch finally felt warm. Their bodies were locked together and had slowly moved from the hallway to his room.

"Close the door," she whispered in between balmy breaths.

"No one else is he—" he tried to speak but Faye caught his lips again. Arguing was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He tore one of his hands away from her body and pushed the door shut.

**II-II II-II II-II**

His left hand lay lightly over her abdomen, feeling the soft skin move to the pace of her breathing. Her head was resting on his arm and her hands gently held his right hand. Her hair lay carelessly over his skin. Spike woke up but didn't move. He could hear the sprinkling of the rain thump softly on the roof. Or was that his pulse? It felt like it was still too early. He lazily opened his eyes to look at Faye. This was the third time he woke up next to her. The first time he'd ever shared that bed with someone. He closed his eyes, inched closer to her, and fell asleep again.

After a few hours, their rest was broken. Spike's communicator began to ring endlessly. He tried to ignore it, but its tone was more annoying than an alarm clock. They stirred and shifted position. Faye pulled the blankets over her eyes.

"Hurry up and pick up already," she said displeased.

Spike was still tired. "You answer, it's closer to you," he replied thoughtlessly.

"I'm not going to answer your call," Faye said. She moved away from him so he would be able to reach for the communicator.

Spike yawned as he sat up. Since the communicator was sitting on the table beside Faye, he reached over her body. She had closed her eyes already and was about to fall asleep again. He let the weight of his body fall on her.

She groaned as she tried to shove him away, "Get off of me. You're too heavy."

He purposely remained as he was. His fingertips managed to draw the communicator closer and he picked up. It was still ringing. "Hello," he answered. Hearing this, Faye stopped struggling to move him away.

"You sound asleep," Jet said. The communicator's noise was too loud and it was easy for Faye to hear.

"I was. At least until you so graciously woke me up," Spike said sarcastically.

"It's too late to be sleeping," Jet said.

"It's only…," Spike glanced at the clock, "seven thirteen…Are you aware of how early it is?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Listen, I need you to do something. One of the parts I went to pick up got sold to someone. I figured out who it was and I need you to go get it."

"Sure, I'll take care of it later."

"You don't want to take too long, with it being Monday, the people will all be going out to restock. If you don't hurry up, you'll get there and it will be too crowded."

"Yeah, I get it," Spike answered displeased.

"Is Faye around?" Jet asked.

Spike looked down at Faye and smirked. "Yeah, she's here," he said. Faye managed to somehow elbow his stomach. He tried not to grunt and said, "Do you want to talk to her?"

"Nah," Jet answered. "She wrote the address down but I asked her to wait until I made sure it was the correct one. Anyway, ask her to give it to you."

"Is that all?"

"Yeah that's it." Jet said, "I'll see you later."

"Alright." Spike ended the call and sat the communicator down on the table again.

"Are you going to get off of me now? I'm not a pillow you know," Faye said as soon as he'd ended the transmission.

"Fine," he said languidly as he sat up. But if anything, now she was also awake. She sat up next to him. He looked at Faye and kissed her once before saying, "Let's get up and eat something before heading out."

"That's sound good," she said stepping out of the bed. "But just so you know, I'm not going to be the one cooking."

They left his room and headed for the kitchen to make some breakfast. As Faye had promised, she didn't get near the stove and it was Spike who ended up making most of their meal. He wasn't an excellent cook, but he'd be willing to bet that eating his cooking was safer than Faye's. It took longer than they had expected since they couldn't find much of anything to eat. In the end, Spike made some scrambled eggs and bacon. Faye took care of the toast and coffee. They talked a lot too. Maybe that was why it was taking forever to leave. After they had gotten ready and walked out of the Bebop, it was already past ten.

It wasn't raining anymore. The streets looked clean and the wind smelled like fresh dirt. Faye lightly smiled as soon as they began walking down the street. "I like rain," she said. "Don't you think it makes things look better once it stops?"

Spike looked around the streets and up at the clearing sky before responding. She was right. The streets that had always been dusty looked pleasant. The cement of the sidewalk and buildings was cool. The color of everything was intensified by the dampness of the water. Even the dirt looked much brighter. He hadn't seen earth like that before. "I guess," he answered.

They continued to walk quietly after that. The amount of people on the streets gradually increased. Until finally, Spike and Faye found themselves stuck in the middle of the market district. It was loud. There were carts and stations set on every side of the street. The smell of ripe and rotten fruit mixed together in the air. Some men were on a corner drinking. There were small children running around everywhere being followed closely by their mothers. A small boy strayed away from his mother. The boy ran towards Spike's direction, he tried to move out of the way, but the kid used him as a hiding place instead. Spike tried to move away, but the child had taken a hold of the back of his legs. Spike waited for the kid's mother to come and take him away.

Faye laughed.

"You shouldn't have taken so long getting ready," Spike told her as they tried to make their way around. Someone cut through them and Faye fell behind. He waited for her to catch up.

"I wouldn't have taken so long if you'd just—" A man had bumped against her and she stumbled forward but she regained herself quickly. "You should have listened to Jet."

Spike looked at the street trying to locate the right direction. "There usually isn't this many people around…" He tried to remember the street name again, but through all the bustling, he kept forgetting part of it. "Where was it we're going again?"

Faye read the address. Spike sighed deeply. He didn't remember seeing that street before. He looked back to see if Faye was still behind him. She was only a step away; her sight was slightly following the intertwined hands of a couple. She realized Spike's gaze was on her and looked away.

Almost like if reading his mind she said, "I know, it's not polite to stare. Did you figure out where we need to go?"

"Not yet," he answered. He looked back at Faye.

It was nice to understand her again.

Spike knew why her eyes had been so focused on the other couple's hands. They could do that now too. But it would probably be awkward. Being in front of so many people, actually looking like they were together. It was weird. He didn't know whether he could do it, even if he wanted to be closer to her. So they continued to walk for several minutes, stopping when one got left behind, rushing when one got ahead. Several times, they reached for each other until the gap had closed, but their hands never remained together very long. Moving along that way was very tiring and time consuming.

After several minutes of endlessly trudging through the street, Spike and Faye reached an intersection. They stopped walking and stood still trying to figure out which of the roads was correct. They stood very close to each other; the sides of their hands almost touching. The people around them kept moving, uninterestingly aware of their existence.

"Where do we go from here?" Faye said, looking carefully at the streets ahead. He felt the light touch of her skin on his hand as she waited for his answer.

"I don't know." Spike said. He didn't know how, or what possessed him to do it. But his fingers reached out for Faye's hand. He felt the gentle warmth of her touch as she locked their fingers together. "Let's just keep going and see where this leads us."

He took a step forward and walked through the crowd. It was easier to move this way. Whenever he had a hard time getting through, Faye found a way to keep them moving. The wind blew gently and lifted the tarps of the stands. The combination of the people's voices echoed in the streets. Spike found the name of the street and nodded in the direction of the sign. They left the street and walked into the worn building. Though it was no longer necessary, he didn't release her. Her hand in his. It just felt right.

**MMN—Fin—NMM**

_Dear Readers,_

YOU ROCK!

Here is a little gift in appreciation for your support.

**http:// nonmetallicmetal. deviantart. com/art/Addicted-131735076**

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_NonMetallicMetal_


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